Red Hair, a Cocky Grin, and a Heart of Ice
by Uncertainty
Summary: Reno/Tifa-like OC to avoid an OOC Tifa. "Babe," he said softly, "I don't bluff. Ever. I have to get you to Midgar, and if that's what it takes to get the job done, that's what I'll do. Don't test me."
1. Red Hair, Dirty Dishes, Uninvited Guests

**Author's Notes**: **If you're only reading part of this, or if you start reading it and then lose interest, feel free to drop me a line and let me know why-pacing, characters not engaging your interest, dislike of OC's, etc. Thanks!**

About OC's—I know, most people don't care for them. I don't, either. But I used one instead of an established character for two reasons. The first is that I wanted to be able to put these characters into situations I didn't think Tifa would necessarily get into. The second is that I wasn't sure I could write Tifa accurately, and I don't see the point of claiming to use an established character, but writing them "OOC." If the character is OOC, it's an OC with an established character's name. At least, that's my opinion. So, a "Tifa-like OC." Forgive me, please, and give it a chance.

I started this eons ago, for my own entertainment, but I decided to go ahead and post it because there are bits of it that I really like. Hopefully someone else will enjoy it as well.

I personally don't like stories on here with chapters, because I have trouble reading stuff online at work sometimes (spotty internet connection), so I prefer to save them as Word files and read them offline. It's a pain doing that with multiple chapters. So, if you want a single file with all of the published chapters to date you can comment, then message me and ask for a link to the file. I won't send it to anyone who doesn't at least read the first chapter and comment, but if you'll do that, I'm happy to make things easier on you.

"Mature" for language, violence, and possibly adult themes.

Si'ara wiped down the counter of the now almost-empty bar and reminded herself for the hundredth time this evening that once she closed up tonight, her vacation would start, and she wouldn't have to see the inside of this or any other bar for almost a month. It had been one of those nights.

"Lookin' like you could use a few drinks before you call it a night, yo."

Si'ara knew the voice, and lifted her gaze from the worn wooden bar to search through the late-night haze for a shock of red hair. She'd noticed the Turk, Reno, sitting at a high table against the wall earlier, fortified by a steady stream of whiskey on ice, surrounding himself with a cloud of spice-scented smoke, and taking a moment or more to admire, compliment, or grope the assets of any attractive woman who passed within his view. She'd been worried at first, wondering why he was in her bar and hoping he wouldn't make trouble, but it seemed he was simply enjoying a night on the town, being his usual self-a flirtatious lush with no sense of discernment aside from an uncanny ability to judge a woman's cup size and alcohol tolerance at a glance.

She found him in the same spot, leaning on the table, whiskey glass in one hand, cigarette in the other. "It's been a long night," she admitted. Her assistant had shorted a belligerent drunk a significant amount of money, and it had been necessary for Si'ara to step in and figure out who was right and make reparations. Several customers had been quite willing to jump in fist-first on either side, and all in all, it had been a stressful and unwelcome situation. "But I'm pretty sure that there isn't much that's more pathetic than sitting around in your own bar after hours, drinking by yourself." She tossed him a casual grin and looked around to see how many customers were left. To her relief, everyone else had cleared out.

"I'm in town for a day or two." Reno tossed down the rest of his whiskey and set the glass on the table, leaning back against the wall and taking another drag on his cigarette. "An' I'm always up for a few more drinks."

Si'ara laughed. "And a few more, and a few more after that. You could probably support a bar or two on your own, Reno." She had made enough money off of him herself, at her bar in Edge, and on occasion at the bar she'd run in Midgar before that.

He shrugged, un-offended. "So come on over."

He said it like a dare, his eyes glittering at her wickedly through the haze of smoke. Si'ara frowned and got to work clearing tables, starting with the ones farthest from the Turk. She didn't want to go home yet—it _had _been a rough night, and it would be nice to go do something fun before heading for bed. But she wasn't sure that hanging out with a trained assassin who had once tried to kill not only herself, but all of her friends as well, counted as fun. He seemed friendly enough at the moment-she supposed the thing to do would be to make up her mind one way or another, and see how he took her response.

"I've still got things to do before I can get out of here." She had let Kyli leave after the unfortunate incident with the drunk, and had paid the price for that, as it left her to handle all the customers for the rest of the night, and all of the cleaning to do now. Although, she could leave the cleaning for Kyli to do in the morning—she would be running the bar while Si'ara was on vacation, and a little extra cleaning wouldn't bother her after an early night off.

"No hurry, yo." Reno shrugged and laid his head back against the wall, blowing a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling.

She finished collecting empty glasses from all of the tables except those closest to his, her mind drifting over the interactions she'd had with him in the past. On a business level, they'd been fine-as long as he wasn't in the mood for a fight, he'd been content to spend his money buying drinks, for himself and for the random floozies he picked up on a nightly basis. And when he _had_ been in a fighting mood, he'd tended to limit himself to watching for rowdy customers, or the guys who felt they could handle the staff as well as the drinks, and he'd kept his fights outside, in the street or in the alleys. But on a personal level-well, that was a little different. Her bar in Midgar had been destroyed, and thousands of people killed, as a direct result of his actions. And he'd kicked her ass, along with her friends', for the right to do it. They'd had other encounters since then, some of which had gone better, some not so much, but right now that one stuck in her mind.

Decision made, she set the dirty dishes on the bar and turned back to where he was sitting. "Ah, another time, maybe." She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling errant strands off of her face and sighed. "Right now, I think I'm ready to write this day off and hope that tomorrow's better."

"Your call." Reno slid off the barstool, accepting her rejection with a shrug and heading for the door. On his way, he put his cigarette out in an empty ashtray, then waved at her without turning around and left, the door swinging closed behind him. A moment later, the roar of a high-powered motorcycle filled the quiet night, revving loudly, then fading swiftly into the distance.

Si'ara wasn't sure whether she should feel relieved or disappointed, but suspected that relieved was the wiser choice. Although the Turks no longer actively hunted her or her friends, they still worked for Rufus Shinra, and no matter how reformed that man might seem to be, she suspected that his nature was unchanged. He had done a lot lately to repair the damage his predecessors had done to the planet, but then, what would make better PR than that? He could blame all of the horrors and atrocities the Shin-Ra Electric Power Company had committed on his father and his father's advisors, wooing the public to his side. Not that it mattered. The mako reactors were shut down, but Shinra now owned the majority of the world's natural resources, having purchased mines and tracts of land while they were cheap, deemed unnecessary in view of the plentiful energy the mako reactors had provided. Shin-Ra Electric Power Company was still in control, and Rufus Shinra was at its head.

Pushing such thoughts aside, Si'ara finished clearing the tables, then popped open the cash register and sorted the cash quickly, putting back enough change for the next day and taking the rest into the office. Once it was in the safe, she locked up carefully, checking everything to make sure it was secure. Kyli had her own keys to everything but the safe, which she shouldn't need to get into. Confident that all was safe and sound, she headed out, locking the door behind her.

A quick stop by Costa Del Sol's all-night convenience store provided her with ready-to-eat meals for the next day, so she could decide just how to spend her vacation without worrying about cooking or cleaning. That was something she wanted to avoid for a day or two. The night was quiet now that Reno and his motorcycle were gone, and as she walked the half-mile or so to her house, the sound of waves lapping against the shore grew more distinct. Her current home was on the edge of town—she liked the convenience of city life, but disliked people, so this was the best compromise she could find.

Pausing at the front door of her modest cottage to dig for her keys, she became gradually aware of a subtle wrongness. The feeling grew more pronounced when she went to unlock the door and found it already open. Senses now fully alert, she pushed it open, confident that she would be a match for any intruder that might be inside, but annoyed to have her home violated in this way.

To her surprise the first figure she saw, spinning to face her, was Elena, the most junior of Shinra's private hit squad. As Turks went, she wasn't very imposing. Si'ara threw the bag of groceries at the petite blonde, and was preparing to follow it with a flying kick when she heard a soft voice say, "Not moving would be a better choice, Miss Ravenscar." That calm demeanor could only belong to one person—Tseng, the Turks' Wutaian leader. She glanced to her right and found herself, as expected, staring down the barrel of a gun into the eyes of a trained killer. Straightening slightly, she held her arms away from her side, palms toward him, while she tried to decide on a course of action. Then darkness swept over her as her bones seemed to turn to jelly and the floor rushed toward her noiselessly.


	2. Cargo, Cigarettes, and that Damned EMR

**Author's Notes**: Well, if you're reading Chapter 2, I must be doing something right. Regarding the comment in the description about this being incomplete—there are enough resolved issues that I think you'll find it worth reading, but I wanted to write more once I reached a certain point of resolution, so I kept going. Really, I write for character interaction, not so much for plot development. Feel free to let me know what you think of that.

Also, I have played Crisis Core and FF7, and watched Advent Children (Complete) Last Order, and Before Crisis (playthrough on Youtube). I tried playing Dirge of Cerberus, but I haven't played through it. Therefore, the events in this story relating to DoC/Vincent are altered—there is no mention of Deepgound, per se, just an organization that attacked Vincent, and no consideration given to whether or not he still has his Chaos powers. This story isn't about Vincent, although he figures in it, so I didn't think the details that were changed would be a problem. That comes up more in the next chapter, this is just fair warning.

* * *

Si'ara's first thought as she awoke was that her bed should not be rocking slightly beneath her. Her second thought, accompanied by a muttered curse, was that it shouldn't be so hard. Apparently, she'd drunk more than she remembered the night before, and had fallen asleep on the floor. An attempt to rub her eyes as she started to sit up, however, brought that line of thinking to an abrupt end. Her wrists were bound together with a length of rope, not something she was likely to have done. She stared at the rope in disbelief, certain that she hadn't put it there, and fairly certain that she'd gone home alone.

"Okay, let's think this through." She sat up carefully and looked around. The area in front of her was dimly lit, and seemed to be filled with crates. "This is not where I should be." Her internal monologue kept her calm, forced her to think things through instead of just reacting. It was a skill she needed to learn, as her impulsive reactions in the past had led her into a number of unpleasant situations.

Memories come back slowly, and she frowned, wondering why the Turks would have been in her house. She had a few suspicions, but decided that the first course of action was to get rid of the ropes binding her hands. Worrying about the Turks' interests could come later, once she'd found a way out of her immediate predicament. That decided, she went to work on the knots holding her wrists together.

"Can't be doing that, yo," a familiar voice warned from somewhere off to her left.

Si'ara whipped her head around to find its source, then folded up in pain as a trio of purple chocobos tried to peck their way out of her skull. "Reno? What the hell?" She wished now that she'd poisoned his whiskey while she'd had the chance. Obviously, his attempt to get her to have a few drinks had been nothing more than a way of trying to keep her away from her house while his cohorts searched it. Equally apparent was the fact that he'd had no real desire to spend the time with her, as he'd made no attempt to talk her into it when she turned him down, in spite of it being his assigned task as a Turk. She wasn't sure why that realization bothered her, but decided she was just upset over the aforementioned missed opportunity to finish him off at the bar.

"Language, babe." She could see him now, slouched against the wall, holding a cigarette loosely between two fingers while he blew smoke at the ceiling and grinned. "Aren't heroes supposed to be family-friendly and virtuous and all that…stuff?"

Si'ara stared at him blankly a moment, trying to decide which she liked being called less, "hero" or "babe." She decided to overlook both and cut to the chase. "Fine. Why don't you get over here and take these off for me, then."

"I like a woman who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask for it." He pushed himself off the wall nonchalantly and walked closer to her, dropping lazily onto a crate and leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees. Watching her contemplatively, he stuck the cigarette in his mouth, took a long drag, and then exhaled slowly, letting the faintly spice-scented smoke trickle from between his lips while he considered her. "But it doesn't look like it would be in my best interests to do that. Ya seem pretty pissed right now, yo." There was a faint note of admiration or approval in his tone, only slightly marred by the amusement that accompanied it.

"Oh, really?" She looked around, taking in her surroundings as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. "I'm stuck in a room full of boxes with a smug, self-satisfied bastard, my hands are tied, my head aches, and I'm wasting the first vacation I've had in years!" She took a deep breath to calm herself while he watched, head canted slightly to one side as though he was listening intently and actually cared what she was saying. The glimmer in his eyes, however, proclaimed him to be humoring her, or amusing himself at her expense, rather than full of genuine concern. That didn't help her mood at all. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

Reno shrugged and stood up, walking over to a pile of crates and peering around them before returning his attention to her. "You're stuck in a room full of _crates_," he emphasized the word slightly, "because for this trip, you're cargo, not a passenger." He leaned against the stack and took another drag, watching her expectantly.

"Cargo?" Si'ara fought down the surge of outrage, certain that that was the reaction Reno had been hoping for and not about to give him the satisfaction. She flexed her wrists unobtrusively where they lay in her lap, trying to loosen the ropes.

"Well," he said reasonably, "cargo is cheaper to ship at the last minute." His gaze slid over her body appreciatively, clearly picturing it without the tight shirt, miniskirt, and high leather boots she was wearing. "Although," he added with his trademark grinning leer, "I could probably arrange a room if I really tried, or at least a bed."

She rolled her eyes. "Put those thoughts back in your dreams where they belong, 'yo'." To keep him distracted though, she shifted position, stretching out the leg that she'd had bent and bending the other, sliding them against each other slowly, watching as he shifted his gaze to them appreciatively. "And really," she added mockingly, hoping that taunts would keep him occupied, "I don't think I'm your type. I've seen the kind of hussies you pick up for your one-night-stands, and they don't look very demanding. Drunk, horny, and desperate, but halfway to being passed out before you leave the bar."

"Hussies?" He feigned outrage with an amused grin. "Harsh. You don't even know them. At least, you probably don't." He looked almost thoughtful for a moment as he paused to blow a smoke ring at the ceiling. "Well, not most of them, anyway. I guess the odds are good, in the long run…" His gaze focused on her once more. "Calling them names, hmm? Kind of a cat-fight tactic, really. Jealous, yo?" He seemed to be enjoying himself, as though he considered this to be nothing more than a game.

She made a disparaging sound and straightened slightly, her hands nearly free, but concealed behind her now-bent leg. It seemed, however, that she had misjudged the Turk's skills of observation. He stretched languidly, eyes still on her, flicked the cigarette aside, and covered the space between them in a few long strides, dropping into a crouch next to her and grabbing her wrists. "I know you're a highly skilled martial artist," he said easily, his voice low and disturbingly intimate. "I know that your training and your ego are telling you that you should free yourself and overpower me. But my orders are to get you to Midgar, and that's what I'm going to do." He rubbed her wrists with his thumbs as he spoke, running them over the grooves left by the ropes as she'd pulled against them.

"Stop it," she whispered, uncharacteristically self-conscious under his contemplative gaze, watching her now through half-lidded eyes. She hoped he hadn't heard the way her heartbeat quickened when he grabbed her, or had taken it for fear. If he thought she was afraid of him, he would be more likely to let down his guard eventually. On the other hand, if he thought she was remotely interested in him, he probably wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of the situation, justifying his actions with the thought that she actually wanted him. After all, she was one of what she guessed to be a small percentage of women on the planet-those who hadn't already been to bed with Reno the Turk.

He grinned, mischief sparkling in his blue-green eyes. "Stop what? Complimenting your skills? Telling you what my evil Turk plans are?" He leaned forward and murmured provocatively, "Or should I stop finding excuses to put my hands on the most beautiful woman in this cargo bay?"

His face was only inches from hers, a lock of red hair nearly brushing her cheek. She found herself staring at eyes framed by long dark lashes, lips curved in a sensual smirk, and those crimson scars curving gracefully across each cheek, and wondered what it would feel like to break his nose with a well-placed head-butt. That, she reasoned, might give her enough time to get out of the cargo bay, and hopefully lose herself somewhere on the ship.

"How about 'stop feeding me your cheap lines,' and while you're at it, let go of me," she suggested coolly, turning away before she gave in and indulged her wild fantasy. He was, after all, a Turk. Something like a broken nose had to be common enough in fights for him to ignore it. A good plan for some situations, but probably not appropriate for this one.

To her surprise, he did as she asked, changing his grip on her wrists and shifting his attention to the ropes, starting to tighten them once more. Before she could voice any further protest, the clicking of heels caught her attention, and Reno's as well, from beyond the stack of crates against which he'd been leaning. She noted, as they both turned in that direction, a distinct look of anticipation in Reno's eyes.

The reason was immediately apparent as a leggy blonde came around the end of the row of crates, her short, tight blue skirt and Shinra-issue white blouse proclaiming her to be another company employee. One of her hands held onto the crates for balance as the ship rocked rhythmically beneath her; she used the other to push a pair of wire-rimmed glasses back up her nose, and smiled shyly at Reno. "Sir, we should be docking within the hour."

The grin her words brought to Reno's lips was wickedly sinful, and he abandoned Si'ara and her bonds on favor of this new arrival. "I've been waiting to hear you say that," he informed the blonde, his voice dripping with innuendo. "Is everything in order?"

"I…I believe so, sir." She blushed, and licked her lips nervously as he walked toward her, an action that drew Reno's eyes to them immediately, Si'ara noted with disgust. "Kieran was talking to someone about securing accommodations when he sent me down here." In response to the redhead's lack of response, she added, "Kieran is one of the guards. Sir."

Reno frowned, flirtatious mood replaced completely by one far more businesslike, and far less pleased as well. "Just now? Those arrangements should have been confirmed before we left. Is there a problem?"

"I'm not certain, sir." The blonde, more nervous now, if that was possible, glanced back in the direction from which she had appeared. "Do you want me to go find out?"

"No." Reno turned back to Si'ara. "Just go get everything together. If we're docking within the hour, I need to make sure things are in order when we get there. Find Kieran for me, and tell him to stay put." He dismissed her from his attention then as completely as he'd dismissed Si'ara upon the blonde's arrival. "Sorry about this, babe, but it looks like I have things to take care of."

Si'ara frowned, confused by his comment, then scooted back across the floor as he dropped his EMR into his left hand and strode toward her. "Oh, I don't think so," she warned, rolling onto her knees. "Back off, Turk, or you'll wish you'd tied more than my wrists."

Reno's lips curled in an amused smile, an expression that made him look a lot more like himself to Si'ara than the serious face he'd had a moment ago. "Ya know, this'd be a lot easier on you if you'd just lay back and take it like a good girl."

"I'll bet you say that a lot, don't you?" She let a sneer of disgust curl her lips slightly. "Usually before slipping someone underage a spiked drink, I'm guessing." She knew he expected her to lunge to her feet and take a swing at him. Instead, she rolled to the side, planting her hands on the ground and sweeping his feet out from under him. As he landed, she threw her leg over him, straddling him in an effort to keep him down. At the same time, she grabbed his left arm in her still-bound hands, and slammed it against a crate, getting him to drop his EMR. She followed up with a blow to the side of his face while he was aiming a stiffened hand at her throat.

Caught off guard by her attack, Reno barely stopped himself from reacting with lethal force. His EMR was attached to his wrist by a leather strap-he dropped it without hesitation when Si'ara slammed his arm against the crate. His other action he managed to check, grabbing her throat with his right hand instead of striking it. "Fuck, Si'ara!" He absently noted the strength with which her legs clamped down on his hips as she resisted his attempt to shove her off of him. "Would you quit hitting me in the damned face?"

Her only answer was to draw her hands back for another blow, driving her elbow into his arm in an attempt to make him release her throat. As she did so, the ropes binding her wrists slipped slightly, and Reno realized how close she was to freeing herself. With an angry sound, he shoved her backwards, using his hand against her windpipe to convince her that resisting the motion would be less wise than rolling with it. She reacted quickly, curling her legs up so she could brace them against his chest and push him away, but he moved aside before she had the chance to do so, and put enough weight onto the hand against her throat to make breathing a struggle for her.

"Would you act like the helpless prisoner you are and hold still?" he snapped. "This'll end the same way whether you thrash around a while or give up now, so let's get it over with." After her comment about the drinks, he decide not to resist the urge to add venomously, "Or are you really that attached to lost causes, yo?" It was fairly common knowledge among those familiar with AVALANCHE that Si'ara's romantic exploits had never gone well. She had had a crush on the blond soldier, Cloud Strife, and they had been an item of sorts, but Cloud had been in love with the flower girl Aerith. Her other interest had been an ex-Turk, Vincent Valentine, who had spent 30 years locked in a coffin, but still retained his love for the woman responsible for his being there, Lucrecia. Cloud had used her, and Vincent seemed to be her friend, but neither returned the feelings she had for them. So perhaps it was a low blow, but since Si'ara wasn't holding back, Reno felt no need to do so.

Goaded into action by his taunt, Si'ara grabbed his wrist with both hands and pulled his hand off of her throat enough to draw a revitalizing breath, then tried to knee him in the side. She was actually surprised that he'd reacted so quickly-she had expected to catch him off guard, stun him with his EMR, and get out of the cargo bay. Winding up on her back with his hand around her throat wasn't part of her plan. "Fuck you, Turk." She noticed that he didn't push back against her grip, and was secretly relieved. If he had, she would have to hold up his weight or risk having her throat crushed if her grip slipped suddenly. Instead, he just held his hand against her, and raised his other arm to drop the EMR back into the holster strapped under his sleeve.

"Last chance." His voice was suddenly flat, and his eyes were locked on hers, watching to see what she was going to do. Staring back into them, she realize that it had been years since she'd seen him like this-a Turk on duty whose current task was to take her down. She had forgotten how frightening it was. He put his emotions aside so quickly, transforming from the flirtatious, amoral rogue she was used to into this cold-blooded killer in less than a heartbeat. But from her point of view, all that really meant was that she couldn't let herself stay in his hands.

Reno read the move she was going to make before she loosened her grip on his arm. With a smooth motion, he drew the gun from his shoulder holster and placed the barrel against her forehead. He didn't speak, just arched one slender eyebrow and waited.

Si'ara closed her eyes, recognizing defeat, but having no wish to acknowledge it openly. "Why are you doing this to me?" she whispered angrily, letting go of Reno's arm.

"I told you, babe. My orders are to take you to Midgar. Failure isn't a good career move where Shin-Ra is concerned." Reno put the gun away and dropped the EMR into his hand again. "Relax."

"The hell I will." She tried to twist out of his reach as he let go of her, but felt the EMR connect with her bare arm. A far-too-familiar feeling coursed through her as darkness claimed her once more.


	3. Tragedy, Flames, and a Flash of Crimson

**Author's Notes**: Interlude/flashback/dream. I feel like that's more obvious when you're reading the whole story in one file, because the italics set these sections off from the rest, but when the whole chapter is written that way, I guess it helps to point it out.

Physics and I were not on speaking terms for this chapter. Frankly, I don't think Final Fantasy and physics are on speaking terms anyway, but I wanted to acknowledge the lack here, before I get comments about how you don't get fresh air on top of a building in a burning town. People don't leap from the ground to the tops of buildings, either, or spend five minutes fighting in mid-air while falling or leaping from wall to wall. It's a story set in a fantasy world, so I'm allowing myself some leeway where facts are concerned.

If you haven't read chapters 1 and 2, please do so. They're much better than this one—this was written to fill in some background information for later/overall. I wouldn't recommend skipping it, but I wouldn't suggest reading it first or alone, either.

* * *

_Kalm was burning. Sights and smells and sounds that no-one should have to experience once, let alone often enough to become familiar with them, swept around Si'ara as she moved through the town, searching for survivors. Above, she heard the sounds of gunfire, Vincent pursuing the mysterious forces that had attacked the town, their purpose as yet unknown, the only hint an announcement called down from the helicopters circling above that had proclaimed Vincent the reason for the attack._

_That accusation bothered Si'ara almost as much as the carnage surrounding her. It was the sort of thing Vincent would take very personally, and she hated to see him accepting any more of a burden on his soul than he already claimed. In spite of his intimidating appearance and his redoubtable skills as a warrior, he was one of the gentlest people Si'ara knew. It was one of the many reasons she loved him._

_Her mind drifted to that subject as she hurried through the burning streets. She'd never hidden her feelings for the former Turk, on whom Shin-Ra's scientists had performed unspeakable experiments before locking him away for decades in a hidden coffin. But it had never been a secret either that her feelings were not returned—Vincent still loved another woman, one who had never returned his affections. It was a bitter chain of unrequited love, and oddly, united by their understanding of the sorrow each suffered, they'd become friends._

_The journey with the others in search of Sephiroth had made them close. At first, he had avoided her, recognizing the feelings she had for him, and knowing that he would not return them. He hadn't wanted to hurt her, or to make things uncomfortable among the group. But once he realized that she accepted him as he was, love for Lucrecia and all, he had grown to respect her and to see the similarities in their situations. He was the one who watched over her, who kept her from acting impulsively, taught her to look ahead and see the consequences of her actions._

_And when he learned that Cloud had left her yet again, and that she had sold her bar-sick of memories and old ghosts-he came and found her sitting in the run-down apartment she had rented, wallowing in apathy and self-loathing . He had carried her away from the city, had taken her to Costa Del Sol, and had bought an empty bar, insisting that she run it for him. Only when she started filing papers, getting the office in order, did she realize that he'd put it in her name. _

_An explosion to the north of her jerked her out of her reverie, heralding as it did a rain of debris-shards of metal, wood, and stone crashing down around her, spreading the fire to areas it had not yet reached. A scream caught her ear from within the building she was passing, and she ducked inside, trusting that Vincent would hear as well, and wait for her return._

_The interior of the building was lit only by chunks of burning wood and the fires raging outside. The scream was not repeated, but a muffled sob led Si'ara to its source, a small child crouched beneath the remains of a marble tabletop. Si'ara dropped to her knees and reached for her, pulling her from her shelter against her wishes. Wrapping her cloak around the struggling figure, she saw the reason for the child's reluctance-a still form, flames licking at the dress in which it was clothed, lay nearby in a partially-collapsed doorway, arms stretched toward the broken table. It was apparent to Si'ara that she had fallen while trying to flee, the child tumbling from her arms and finding temporary refuge under the sheet of stone._

_Sickened, she hurried from the building. A flash of muzzle fire and a brief glimpse of scarlet swirling above assured her that Vincent was near. Si'ara rushed through the streets as the flames closed in, gagging on the stench of burning flesh and acrid smoke, grateful for the materia in the bracer Vincent had loaned her that allowed her to withstand the heat. Burning bodies littered the street here-it was far enough away from the initial attack that the townspeople had had time to escape their homes, but not far enough for them to make it much farther._

_There was silence now from above; the only sound reaching her ears was the roar of flames. Rounding a corner, she was met by a wall of fire, and checked abruptly, trying to remember the last turnoff that had looked clear._

"_Climb." She jumped, and turned to face the dark-haired gunman behind her, startled by his unexpected proximity. "We are near the edge of the city. I will seek a safe path, but there isn't time to take you with me." He took the child from her arms and leaped to a nearby balcony, gesturing at the staircase that connected it to the street below, and to another balcony above._

_Si'ara climbed, her cloak drawn across her face to keep out the smoke rising all around her. She wondered at Vincent's logic until she reached the top of the building. Higher than most around it, its top levels had not yet been reached by the fires. More importantly, the heat of the inferno raging in the centre of the city created a wind, pulling cooler air from the east past the tower, allowing her to breathe more freely._

_She took the now-silent child from him, and watched him vanish in a swirl of crimson. Looking around, she could see the answer before he returned. There was no clear path. The town was a deathtrap-flames licked from building to building, filling the streets. The heat was sweeping around her in sheets by the time he arrived an eternity later._

_She saw the confirmation of her fears in his eyes before he spoke. "I can find no safe path to the ground, no way to escape on foot." Fury burned in his eyes, rage at having been named the cause of this attack, frustration at his inability to save her. He would survive the tragedy in one form or another-death was a refuge denied him. But there was no way to get her or the child out of the city, no escape except the one their attackers had taken, by air. And even Vincent couldn't fly._

_Si'ara nodded, and buried her face briefly in the child's hair, silently cursing the fates that had allowed her the illusion of saving a life, only to leave her stranded here, watching as the child's hope faded with her own. Vincent stroked her cheek gently, and drew her into his arms. "Si'ara, I'm sorry," he whispered, and she could hear the anger in his voice. He stroked her hair gently with his gauntleted hand. "Relax. Let me think."_

_She slipped one arm around him, the other holding the child to her side, and tried to do as he asked, but he stiffened suddenly. She looked up at him, startled by the change in his demeanor, and watched as he raised Cerberus, his eyes narrowed as he sighted on something she couldn't yet see. A sound reached her ear then, the distinct reverberation of helicopter rotors. _

"_They're coming back?"_

_He canted his head to one side, listening. "They're here for a reason, and a vital one," he said softly. "No pilot would lightly make the attempt to fly through the updrafts and winds surrounding a conflagration this large." She saw his finger tighten slightly on the revolver's trigger, then his eyes narrowed slightly, and he lowered the point of the gun._

_Si'ara frowned, puzzled by his actions, having expected him to try to take out the pilot or hijack the helicopter for their escape. Before she could question him, however, the aircraft in question came into view, dark green where she had expected black, a ShinRa logo on the side._

"_Who would…" She trailed off, unable to imagine a typical ShinRa pilot trying to fight their way to the tower under these conditions, unwilling to believe the most likely answer._

_A flash of crimson hair and a cocky grin met her gaze, however, as the helicopter circled lower, buffeted by the winds, but holding comparatively steady. A cable ladder swept past her, the Turk Rude barely visible where he had dropped it from the doorway of the craft. Vincent caught it, grabbing her hand and pulling it through a rung, making sure she was able to step onto another safely with the child in her arms, then letting the ladder slip through his hands before he pulled himself on behind her. _

_A winch drew the ladder up as Vincent steadied them, and the helicopter swept to the east, escaping the deadly firestorm that had once been Kalm._

"_You looked like you could use a lift." The voice coming from the cockpit was brash and cocky, everything she remembered, but under the circumstances, remarkably welcome. "Mind telling us what's going on, yo?"_


	4. Reminiscing, Betrayal, a Friend in Need

**Author's notes**: Okay, back to the here-and-now, so to speak. One flashback, but a short one, and much better than the last, I think.

FYI: I don't go so far as to say that this is an AU, but it isn't 100% consistent with the game world, either. In the game, the Midgar plate was constructed only a decade or so before the incidents involving Sephiroth's discovery of his "true heritage." I picture it as an older, more established city, in which some of the characters (specifically, in my mind, Reno), have grown up. I think it's a pretty minor change. I also picture many of the cities as being much larger than the few streets portrayed in the games—I assume that to be a sort of representative sample of the city, not the entire location.

Read and enjoy—that's all this is here for.

* * *

For the second time in what she assumed to be one day, Si'ara woke in a dimly lit room with a pounding headache. Being knocked out by EMR was not a gentle way of being put to sleep. She found she couldn't really recommend it. At all.

This time, however, the room appeared to be stationary, and the light filling it came from a lamp she could see glowing softly on a table near the far wall. And in contrast to her previous circumstances, she was lying in a bed now, still dressed, and covered by a soft quilt, her wrists no longer bound.

Reno was leaning against the wall next to a window, gazing out through it, his face illuminated by moonlight. Si'ara took a moment to examine him, noticing that although she now knew where two of his weapons were, and she was fairly certain that he carried more, she could see no sign of their presence. His un-tucked shirt and unbuttoned jacket somehow managed to conceal them completely, creating the illusion of harmlessness that he wore so well.

"Go back to sleep, Si'ara," he said quietly, without even turning to look at her. "It'll be morning soon, and we'll be taking a chopper to Midgar."

"Where are we now?" Ignoring his suggestion, she sat up, looking around her curiously. Reno's PHS and wallet lay on a dresser near the door, and a single chair sat in one corner, plush and velvety, and much more comfortable to her eyes than leaning on the wall. She wondered when he found time to sleep, and whether he ever took off that Turk uniform, or whether it was so sloppy and carelessly worn because he lived in it.

"Junon." He turned away from the window then, granting her his full attention. "If you don't want me to tie you to that bed, I suggest you lay back down." He didn't make any threatening move, just took a silver case from an inside pocket and twitched a cigarette from it carelessly, but his eyes were hard as they swept over her, and she couldn't help remembering how quickly he'd drawn his gun back on the ship.

Still, she wasn't about to let him order her around. While he lit his cigarette, she made a slow perusal of the room, watching as he tried to open the window and grew increasingly annoyed by the fact that the it had no hinges or latches.

"Can't get the cheap hotel window open?"

Aqua eyes flicked to her briefly, impatience with the window temporarily overridden by irritation at her continued questioning. "No, sweetheart, we're not staying at a hotel. That what you wanted to know?"

She stifled her grin swiftly, although not before she knew he'd seen it. "Don't tell me you keep a house in Junon?"

"Of course not." He turned away and rummaged through the dresser drawers until he found a glass dish, dumped the contents back into the drawer, and tapped his ashes off into it. "If it was my place, the windows would open, yo." He took a fortifying drag and leaned back against the wall again. "Belongs to a loyal Shin-Ra employee. We're just borrowing a couple rooms for the night."

"He doesn't mind housing a licensed thug with his prisoner and lackeys?" She wondered how many other people were in the house, what would happen if she started to scream.

"He doesn't have a choice." Reno grinned, good humor at least slightly restored by his nicotine fix . "He has a family to think of, after all."

Si'ara made a disgusted sound. "That's how you do things, isn't it? Threaten people's lives, their livelihoods, their families, just to make sure that you always get what you want."

"Company policy." He canted his head to one side, frowning as he looked at her. "Didn't I tell you to lay down?"

She looked away pointedly, tracing the pattern on the quilt she was under, and only stretching and laying back down when he made a resigned sound and started toward her. "Sorry," she muttered bitterly. "I guess that's what you look for in a woman, hmm? Someone who'll just fall on her back when you tell her to, and then 'take it like a good girl,' I think you said?"

Reno snorted softly in disbelief, and turned to grab his makeshift ashtray. "Yeah, babe, that's what I look for," he said sardonically. "Why not?" he added, lips curling in his customary smirk as he moved back to his spot by the window. "I've never lacked for willing partners."

"I guess if you're willing to take gutter trash to bed, you'll never run out of options," she muttered, then added, "And if you do, you've always got that damned pyramid spell and your mag-rod to fall back on, right?"

He arched a slender brow. "Only time I ever used that pyramid was fighting your pack of terrorists on the Sector Seven platform. Seems to have made an impression on you."

"We could have beaten you if it had been a fair fight. If you hadn't had that damned spell, we could have stopped you."

Reno was silent for a moment, getting one last fix of nicotine before putting out his cigarette, then he walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed with his back to her, staring at the wall by the dresser. "You almost killed me, you know," he said quietly. "Between the three of you, that is. That your idea of a fair fight?"

She looked away, remembering the day that had changed her life forever. It had been the first time she'd faced Reno in combat, although not, as it had turned out, the last.

_Wedge was dead, and Jesse and Biggs were dying, but that was a drop in the bucket to what ShinRa had planned-the death of thousands, crushed beneath the Sector 7 plate and dying on its surface as their homes, their personal world, shattered in the fall. The remaining members of AVALANCHE would do whatever it took, make any sacrifice necessary, to stop that from happening. _

_Si'ara and Cloud had climbed for what felt like an eternity, knowing that the clock was running out. They reached the platform at last to find Barrett facing off against one of the Turks-a wiry, lean redhead with a cocky grin and an air of absolute self-confidence. He was just stepping away from the pillar, a wicked smirk curling his lips, but before he could speak, Cloud rushed him, sword drawn, a cry of defiance echoing as he charged._

_The Turk moved with a speed Si'ara would never have expected, deflecting Cloud's sword and dodging a hail of bullets from Barrett. There was no room for Si'ara to move in without getting in way of her companions, so she took the opportunity to study her opponent's style, watching as he dodged and spun and struck, viper-fast, moments of absolute stillness between each sudden attack or defensive action._

_His fighting style had clearly been learned on the street, in back-alleys and the seedier sections under Midgar's plate. No motion was wasted, and his eyes never stopped moving, watching both men and their weapons, maneuvering to stay between them, to limit their attack options, making Barrett's gun almost more danger to Cloud than to the Turk he was fighting. And he didn't even pretend to fight fair-when a barrage from Barrett's gun finally caught him, he used a pulse of electricity from his EMR to disable the weapon, then a second, as he dodged behind Barrett, using his body as a shield against Cloud's sword, to leave Barrett motionless on the platform's floor._

_Cloud swung at him again, and he gestured sharply, encasing the blond soldier in a shimmering pyramid of force. Apparently confident that his opponents had been neutralized, he'd backed away a step or two, then had turned toward the pillar, and into Si'ara's spin kick._

_She felt something crack as she connected solidly with the side of his face. He staggered back, cursing, then turned to look at her. Eyes locked on hers, muscles still tensed for action, he reached up and touched his cheek where she'd hit him, wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and narrowed his eyes._

_She'd barely had time to react to the fist suddenly coming at her, then she was on guard and they were circling each other, each watching for holes in the other's defense. _

_Cloud had caught him at least once with the blade-there was blood on the side of his face, and one of Barrett's bullets had gone through his chest, although she couldn't tell if it had hit anything vital. Si'ara was willing to capitalize on any weakness, knowing the importance of this fight, but that wasn't her usual style of fighting. In contrast, it clearly was his. _

_He'd made a few quick feints, making contact a couple of times, but nothing serious. His movements weren't exactly graceful and fluid, but the speed with which he performed them made them no less deadly than the classic martial arts moves she'd been taught. He caught her on the side of the head, leaving her ears ringing briefly-she retaliated with a feint at his wounded side and a brutal kick to his left knee. He staggered back and snapped out the EMR he had used on Barrett, swinging it at her face with his left hand while he aimed a blow at her stomach with his right._

_And she made a mistake, forgot how the EMR worked. Dodging his fist, she threw up her arm to deflect the mag-rod, and for the first time learned what it felt like to have 300,000 volts arc through her system. She collapsed, dazed and disoriented, and he staggered backward, hand going to the spreading bloodstain on his side._

_She thought he was reaching for his gun-she expected him to shoot her, but instead he went over to the pillar, leaning against it and looking down at the timer. He ducked his head to look at her, then pushed off of the pillar and moved toward the railing._

"_There's nothing you can do now," he said flatly, directing his words to her, though he spared a glance at Barrett, who was moving slightly, trying to get back on his feet. "You have two minutes, then it's over." He'd cocked his head to the side as though listening for something, then had leapt off the edge of the platform. A moment later, a Shin-Ra chopper had flashed a light across them briefly before vanishing into the night._

_In the years since, she'd occasionally wondered how long they would have lain there if he hadn't said anything. She hadn't wanted to move, she knew that. It had taken so much effort to get her muscles to obey her, to drag herself over to the cable Barrett found, grab hold of it along with him and Cloud, and hang on as it carried them to safety. They'd made it out just before the explosives went off, destroying the pillar and dropping the Sector 7 plate._

"You broke my jaw, you know." He reached up and rubbed it as though it pained him still. "It hurt like hell." He glanced down and offered her a crooked, humorless grin. "I really wanted to make you pay for that, for a long time."

Si'ara looked away, then back at him. The memory had somehow washed away the anger she felt towards him, at least for the moment, leaving in its wake a weary regret over the way things had turned out. "It wasn't a fair fight," she admitted quietly. "But there was so much at stake. How could we justify holding back, in any way?" When he didn't answer her, turning his head to gaze at the window instead, she reached out tentatively to touch his arm.

Aqua eyes met hers once more as he glanced back quickly, startled by the unexpected contact. Si'ara let her hand slide down his arm to rest against the side of his thigh. "I didn't enjoy it, you know," she said softly. "Hurting people," a faint grin, "even you, isn't my idea of a good time."

Moving slowly, as though he was afraid of spooking her, Reno reached out to brush his fingertips across her cheek. "What _is_ your idea of a good time, Si'ara?" he murmured, the ever-present innuendo oddly subdued.

A terrible, unforgivable plan took vague form in the back of Si'ara's mind, and she turned her head, brushing her lips across his fingertips, her hand slipping up to cover his before he could pull away. "I don't know," she confessed, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his hand. "Not this. Not…being held captive by a man who resents me, sees me as nothing more than a job to be done. Not feeling weak and helpless and frightened." She swallowed hard on the last word, wishing she was the sort of woman who could cry at will. "I'm sorry." She released his hand and turned her head away, breaking all contact with him.

Reno was silent for a moment, and she began to think that she was more right than she'd realized-that he had no interest in her, and only wanted get this mission done and be rid of her. Or perhaps she'd overdone the drama, and he was deciding what to do in retaliation. Then she felt his weight shift on the bed as he turned his body to face her. His hand settled back on her cheek, and she felt his thumb brush over her lips lightly. "Is that what you think?" There was genuine surprise in his voice, and she opened her eyes to see him watching her, a slight frown creasing his brow.

She gave a soft, humorless laugh, and shook her head slightly. "I must have been the only woman in Midgar, or Edge for that matter, that you never showed any interest in. At all." It was true, and there was no need for her to feign an injured tone. Combined with the dynamics of her relationships with Vincent and Cloud, it had made her question, on more than one occasion, what exactly was so wrong with her.

"How-" Reno shook his head, confused. "Why would you have anything to do with me?" he demanded, searching her face for some clue as to what was going on. "After what I did…"

"You never even tried." She closed her eyes and caught her lower lip between her teeth, then opened them to stare past him at the ceiling. "Never."

Reno saw nothing but genuine hurt in Si'ara's expression. He was adept at reading people-it was a skill he'd developed as a survival trait long before his time as a Turk. A quick study of Si'ara revealed only confusion and wounded pride. It shocked him-he'd always assumed that she tolerated his presence in her bars only because he'd spent half of his weekly salary on drinks, that otherwise she would have preferred not to have him around. He knew they'd worked together since the tragedies in Midgar, but there was nothing he had done that would atone for destroying her home and livelihood, and killing thousands of people she'd been trying to protect.

Cautiously, expecting her to balk at any moment, he coaxed her to sit up, brushing the hair back from her face. "Si'ara," he said honestly, "if I had ever thought I could put my hands on you without getting my ass kicked for it, I'd've given it a try long ago."

Si'ara pushed aside her plans, hoping that he would take any trace of guilt in her eyes as a remembrance of things past, not what she had in mind at the moment. She reached up to stroke his hair, guaranteeing that her arms weren't pinned when he slipped his around her, pulling her close. It bothered her that he was being so gentle, so careful. She'd expected crude comments or careless flirting, not this hesitant, considerate handling. The worst part of it was that this was how she had always imagined Vincent would be, if she could ever get him to see her as more than a close friend…

Reno brought her thoughts back sharply to the here and now, slipping his fingers through her hair and tilting her face up to his, searching her eyes, obviously thrown off-balance by this turn of events . She knew he could feel her heart racing- there was a glimmer of the Reno she was accustomed to in his eyes, cocky and confident, certain of his power over anyone female. Then his lips brushed against hers, and she stopped caring about his attitude.

His lips were soft and warm as they slid across hers, his touch light and caressing. The tip of his tongue flicked across her lips, playful and teasing, pulling back when they parted, only to flick across them again when she pressed them together in a disappointed scowl. She couldn't help it-she laughed without drawing back, then gasped as he slipped his tongue across hers, a quick darting motion that he repeated when she tightened her arms around him, pressing her body to his.

For a moment she abandoned her plans, lost in sensations she hadn't enjoyed for years. His right hand was on her back; she arched against him as he ran his fingernails down her spine, sending a shiver through her body. Tendrils of scarlet hair brushed against her cheek-silky-soft where she would have expected coarseness. The scent of his cologne, the shampoo he used, the spicy cigarettes he smoked, all combined to form a scent identifiable only as "Reno." She surrendered to these sensations, let them surround her and draw her in.

He kissed her gently at first, tracing her lips with his tongue, sliding it over hers, tasting and teasing her. When she could take no more of that and made a soft sound of protest, he tangled his fingers in her hair, his heartbeat quickening. Giving in to their mutual desires, he closed his mouth over hers, exploring her with his tongue-no longer teasing, but demanding-slipping his free arm around her to pull her body tightly against his.

With regret, she realized that this was her chance. His eyes had drifted closed, and he paid no attention to her movements as she stroked his hair, simply holding her close and enjoying a moment he'd never expected to have.

He pulled back the instant he felt her muscles tense, but it was too late. Her fist connected solidly with his temple, allowing her only a glimpse of his startled expression before he collapsed onto the bed. Quickly, she ripped up strips of the sheet to bind his wrists and ankles. Pushing away the guilt that threatened to weigh her down, she dragged him over in front of the door, hoping that his body would slow any guards who might come running shortly.

That done, she looked around the room for anything she might find useful in her escape. Her best plan, as she saw it, was to get to the air base and try to contact Cid or Vincent. But the sun was coming up now, and that plan would work better after nightfall. In the meantime, she would need to find somewhere to stay.

Her eyes fell on Reno's wallet and PHS, lying on the table. The PHS she left, certain that she could be tracked through it, but she grabbed the wallet. It would almost certainly have cards she would find useful in getting into the parts of the airbase she would need.

Then she took the lamp off of the table and picked up the table itself. One well-placed blow shattered the window, making less noise than she'd expected. She looked out and decided that the one-story drop was manageable, then vaulted over the windowsill, careful to place her hands on wood, not shards of glass.

She hit the ground running, just in case anyone was watching, and headed into the back alleyways of Junon, thankful that it was still early enough for them to be wreathed in mist from the harbor, hoping for some kind of inspiration.

Inspiration turned up only a few blocks away, in the form of the young woman, Priscilla, who had helped the members of AVALANCHE when they'd wound up in Junon during their search for Sephiroth. Priscilla was coming around a corner and nearly ran into Si'ara. She looked up to apologize, and her face lit up.

"Si'ara!" Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Si'ara, embracing her quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"Priscilla, I need to hide." She didn't want to involve anyone she didn't have to, but Priscilla was the only person in Junon that she knew she could trust completely. "Shinra is looking for me, and I'm not in the mood to be found. Do you know of any safe place I can stay until nightfall?"

"Of course." Priscilla hated Shinra for the harm they had done to Junon, polluting the village's once-thriving waters, leaving the fisherman who lived there without any means of support. "Come with me." She led Si'ara through the mist-enshrouded streets, down to the oldest part of the city, the original village that had stood here before Shinra's interference.

Si'ara followed her up a flight of stairs to the house she knew to be Priscilla's, but balked at the doorway. "I don't want to get you into any trouble," she protested.

"I don't care." Priscilla's face was set in a stubborn scowl. "If there's anything I can do to hurt Shinra, I'll do it. They need to learn what that feels like."

Si'ara frowned a little. "I thought that with the Sister Ray gone and most of the troops out of the city, Junon was recovering."

Priscilla pushed the door open and went inside, forcing Si'ara to follow in order to hear her response. "Well," she admitted reluctantly, "it is a lot better than it used to be. But my generation won't see it restored to the way it was before Shinra came here." She sighed. "You're right, though-it is getting better. There are fish in the harbor again, which makes Mr. Dolphin happy." A grin lit up her features at the mention of her sea-dwelling friend. "But the damage that was done in the Sapphire Weapon's attack was pretty severe, too. We're really still recovering from all of it."

Now that she was in the house, Si'ara found herself seduced by its homey atmosphere, unwilling to object further to staying here. She nodded, remembering the havoc the attack had wreaked on Junon, then switched the subject to the current predicament.

"I really appreciate you bringing me here, but I suspect that there will be people looking for me before too long, if they aren't out already." She moved away from the windows and the door, just in case.

"What did you do this time?" Priscilla grinned, and locked the door, then checked to make sure all of the curtains were closed completely.

"Well…" Si'ara felt another rush of guilt, but pushed it away. "Originally? I'm not sure. But most recently, I knocked out a Turk, tied him up, stole his wallet, and escaped his custody."

Priscilla's hand had flown to her mouth, covering her startled gasp. "Si'ara!" she exclaimed. "A Turk?" She hurried away from the window and doors as well, but there was admiration and laughter in her eyes. "You didn't…did you?"

"Yeah." Si'ara sank onto a chair, realizing exactly how far she had gone. If she'd been in some sort of trouble before, it had gotten a whole lot deeper. Assaulting a Turk? Robbing him? Even if she hadn't done it in such an underhanded way, her actions would have merited serious repercussions. As it was, Reno's personal thoughts on the matter were likely to involve creative uses for his mag-rod, at the very least. She bit her lip and shook her head. "You know what? I really should go."

"No, no," Priscilla protested quickly. "Actually, you're in the perfect place."

Si'ara raised her head to give the girl a questioning look.

"See," Priscilla explained, going over to the throw rug in the middle of the floor and dragging it aside, "when Shinra first started building here, there were a lot of people who weren't happy. And for a while, they tried to fight back." She stepped back, and Si'ara looked at the floor in front of her, confused. With a grin, Priscilla reached down and wiggled her fingers under the edge of a board to pry it up. She tugged on a ring that was hidden beneath it, and Si'ara realized that there was a trapdoor in the floor. "Since Shinra doesn't take kindly to resistance, they had to have somewhere to hide. This used to go down into some caves, and there were entrances from other buildings as well, but most of that has collapsed. Still, you should be able to stay hidden under here."

Si'ara walked over and looked down into the opening. There was a dry wooden ledge several feet down-it didn't look like a very comfortable place to stay, but it did seem well-hidden. "Thanks," she said sincerely. "I don't know how long it'll take them to show up, so I should probably get settled in…"

Priscilla nodded. "Let me get you some blankets and a cup of tea. You look like you could use some rest." She headed off to fix the tea while Si'ara settled down to wait for nightfall.


	5. Blue Eyes, Business, and the Dying Light

**Author's notes**: Flashback, but I really like this one. And it's posted as a separate story as well, since I think it stands alone as a vignette well enough. Timing? Indeterminate, sometime after Shinra decided they wanted a base in Junon, but after they'd established a presence there and had begun building.

* * *

_Blue eyes sparkled up at Reno, dark curls bouncing as the girl at his side tried to see everything around them at once. "It has to be fate," she decided with a grin. "Just think—if my bus hadn't been running early, I wouldn't have missed it, so I would have been gone by the time you got to the bus stop. If you hadn't been running late, you would have left with the rest of the Shinra group, and if you hadn't known my brother you wouldn't have cared even if you did see me there. All of those things had to work out right for us to wind up together like this today!"_

_Reno accepted her logic with a careless shrug. "Fates must like one of us, babe." He tugged lightly on one of her curls. "Pretty sure I'm the lucky one here, so it must be me."_

"_Silly." She leaned against him, smiling softly. "I've never had a day like this." She looked up at him again, a little shy, but clearly enamored "Dinner was wonderful. And…and it was nice to meet one of my brother's friends. I'm still getting used to him being gone." For a moment a cloud shadowed her face, then she smiled again. "Thanks for picking me up."_

_Reno steered her down a side street and across a construction site, approaching his destination from an oblique angle, hoping to get her there before she realized where they were going. To this purpose, he had parked his motorcycle a ways back and suggested they walk for a while. She slipped her hand into his and looked around curiously, staring up at the skeletal framework that would soon be part of the air base Shinra was building here._

_Reno's PHS rang; the girl beside him fell silent immediately and tried to move away to give him some privacy. He tightened his grip on her hand and smiled down at her as he tugged the PHS out of his pocket and flipped it open. He knew who was calling—there was no need for words, he simply held it to his ear and listened to the brief message._

"_Wrong number?" she guessed as he tucked it back into his pocket._

"_Nope." They came around the corner of the half-finished building and he directed her attention to the destination he had chosen._

"_This is my father's park!" She drew him through the open gateway that separated it from the construction site, and looked around at the oasis of greenery and life. A wistful look crossed her face. "Shinra wants him to sell them the land, but he won't. He always says the park reminds him of our mother…" Her teeth caught lightly at her lower lip as she glanced up at Reno uncertainly. "Oh. I suppose you can't care very much for my father, since he's fighting your company, but it means so much to him. He's meeting with them today to talk about it…" She trailed off, letting go of his hand and wrapping her arms around herself._

"_My feelings don't figure into it," Reno assured her. "You live near here, don't you? I thought it would be a good place to end our evening."_

"_Yes, just on the edge of the park." She didn't question how he knew. Disappointment creased her forehead into a tiny frown as she reached out to touch his sleeve. "Does it have to be over already?"_

"_Soon." Reno brushed an errant curl back from her face, and grinned at her. "Shall we?" With a grand gesture, he indicated that she should lead the way._

_The sparkle returned to her eyes as she headed down the single stone path, turning to face him as she walked. "My father says that where Shinra builds, everything else dies. I've never been to Midgar, but he says there's no green left there." Pride lit her face as she waved at the park around them. "Here, there are flowers, grass, and trees; and wildlife to go with them. My father planted it all. He started when my mother got sick, and he always told her how it was going, and promised to bring her here once she was better."_

_Reno let the sound of her voice wash over him, nodding when it seemed appropriate, watching for a good place to stop. "Did he?" he asked absently._

"_Yes." She stopped, and looked around. "It didn't look like this when he brought her here-that was ten years ago. It's grown a lot since. But I think she liked it." Like a butterfly, she was off again, dancing on down the path, pointing out flowers and trees. "Oh, come see!" Her hand slipped into his, and she drew him from the path, urging him toward a small bush with purple and blue flowers. "I forget what they're called, but aren't they pretty?"_

"_Beautiful," he agreed, glancing down at the tiny blossoms. "What's that over there?"_

_She followed his gaze, and tripped off in the direction he indicated. "It's a sundial," she explained, stopping by the low stone pedestal that had caught his attention. Up close, he could see the brass disc set into it, marked with the hours of the day. "Someone broke the style off, so it doesn't tell the time any more, but dad keeps saying he'll fix it one day, so here it stays."_

_Reno curled his fingers around hers, and handed her up onto the platform. She laughed, grabbing his shoulder for balance, then letting go and twirling around once, skirt swirling out around her like flower petals. "It looks different from up here," she claimed delightedly, looking down at the Turk with a superior grin. "I can almost see the sun over the trees."_

"_Spin like that again, babe." Reno gestured vaguely with his hand, bereft now of her touch._

"_Twirl," she corrected, feigning a superior air._

"_Twirl." Reno accepted the correction with an easy grin as his left hand slipped beneath his jacket._

_She complied without hesitation, throwing her head back, closing her eyes, and spreading her arms, twirling gracefully on the pedestal, the dying light casting a golden shroud over her slender form._

_A single shot rang out, shattering the serenity of the evening and startling a dozen or so birds into flight. Reno slipped the gun back under his jacket and turned to leave as the girl's body fell, his day's work now done. He hoped that this time her father would understand the futility of saying no to Shinra—the man only had one kid left, a daughter not yet out of school._

_Sounds of panic reached him now from the direction of her house—a man's voice shouting a name, a child's voice echoing it fearfully— _


	6. Unpleasant Awakening, Incompetent Guards

Author's Notes: Very short, because I didn't want to stick it with the chapter before or after it. More to come shortly...

* * *

Reno woke with a start, the unwelcome dream fading swiftly, and found himself in a position he hadn't been in in years-bound wrist and ankle, on his back on a bedroom floor. As he ripped apart the strips of sheet with which he'd been tied up, he gave voice to a string of expletives that had the closest guards in the hallway knocking on the door almost immediately. Ready to take his anger out on someone-anyone-he stood and jerked open the door. "Where in Ifrit's blazes have you been?" he demanded furiously of the closest guard.

"Uh, sir?" The suddenly terrified young man looked to his comrades for support, and found that none would meet his gaze. "Here, sir," he answered nervously.

Reno grabbed him by the collar and half-dragged, half-threw him into the room, facing the broken window. "You didn't hear anything unusual, by any chance?" he asked, his voice deceptively casual.

"I, um, I did leave for just a moment. To the bathroom. Sir." The guard's voice cracked slightly as he took in the state of the room and realized that the woman the Turk had had with him was gone. "I was only away for a moment…" He wondered how she had gotten away with Reno in the room with her, but knew that if he had any chance of surviving this, voicing that thought would destroy it.

Reno flexed his hands lightly, eyes on the unfortunate young man, but any homicidal thoughts he was entertaining were interrupted by another guard, this one entering the room from the hall, clearly unaware that anything was amiss.

"Sir, the chopper is here." The new arrival stopped in the doorway as Reno turned, storm-grey eyes locking on him like a targeting scope.

The Turk cursed softly, then rolled his head, cracking his neck before nodding. "I want everyone in front of the building in five. Si'ara's gone, and if I don't think you're putting your best effort into finding her, I'll shoot one of you every hour until she turns up." If nothing else, she'd probably show just to stop him from shooting people she didn't even know. Sentimental- He cut off that line of thinking. A manipulative bitch, that's what she was. He'd found some creative uses for his EMR in the past, but this would require a whole new level of innovation.

This time, his thoughts were interrupted by his PHS. He winced when he saw the number, but flipped it open.

"Reno." Rufus's voice was crisp and businesslike, as always. "The chopper should be there by now. I need you to return within the hour-Tseng and Elena have an appointment in Wutai this afternoon."

"Not gonna happen, yo." Reno made no attempt to match his employer's tone-grabbing his PHS had brought to his attention the fact that his wallet was gone. Gritting his teeth, he patted himself down to be sure she hadn't taken any of his weapons. Discovering his cigarette case still in place, he flicked one loose and lit it, fortifying himself with a deep drag on his way to the window.

"Would you care to explain yourself?" Rufus's voice remained level, but Reno knew how little he liked having his plans disrupted.

"Si'ara's gone." Examining the frame and the ground outside, he discovered what he had expected-no blood, and no simple trail to follow. "So unless you want me to come back without her, I won't be leaving just yet."

Dead silence met his pronouncement, then Rufus asked, slowly and quietly, "How long will it take you to get her back?"

"Nightfall, at the latest." If he had to, he'd round up some of the villagers, march them down to what passed for the center of town and start picking them off. He didn't think it would come to that-there were still guards at all of the checkpoints in Junon, so she couldn't get out of the town. And there couldn't be that many places she could hide.

"Fine. Send the chopper back. If you have her in the morning, I'll see what's available." Rufus paused. "And Reno?"

"Sir?" Reno's loyalty to Rufus was unwavering, but it didn't blind him to the young president's faults. He was a hell of an improvement over his father, but still possessed a quick temper and a determination to have the world shape itself to suit him.

"I asked Tseng to assign you this task because failure isn't an option here. If you don't think you can handle it, let me know. I can send Elena to take care of it instead."

"It's under control. Sir." Reno kept a tight rein on his temper-the Turks could get away with a lot more than the rest of the Shinra employees, but getting into an actual fight with Rufus was best reserved for very rare and unique circumstances. This wasn't the time.

"Contact us when you have her." Rufus disconnected without waiting for an answer, and his use of the word "us" instead of "me" meant he had no intention of personally answering Reno's call. That suited the Turk just fine-he had no desire to speak to the president at this point. Snapping his PHS closed, he headed out to assemble his resources and start tracking down his supposed captive.


	7. Search Party, Sandwiches, Surprise Visit

**Author's notes**: The only reason I didn't put this section with the short chapter before it is the change in perspective and setting. I will warn you now—starting in the next chapter or so (I don't think I've done it so far), I will switch point of view from Si'ara to Reno pretty regularly. I don't think that as a writer I'm supposed to do it, but I did, and then when I went back and re-read what I had written (much later), I couldn't find a natural way to re-write it without losing a lot of Reno's perspective. So, feel free to let me know if it seems too awkward or hard to follow. If nothing else, I guess I could at least stick an extra line break between POV's.

For now, though, just read and enjoy. Again, I'm sorry the chapter is so short, but rest assured-there is more to follow!

* * *

Si'ara didn't know how long she'd been in the little cubby-hole under the floor. She'd drunk the cup of tea Priscilla had brought her, and curled up in the blanket to wait until evening. Priscilla had agreed to have her friend the dolphin help Si'ara get to the ladder on the side of the tower in the harbor-she could climb that to get to the airbase without having to go through any checkpoints. Originally, her plan had been to wait until nightfall, but Priscilla had suggested evening, once the sun was going down, but before the lights around the airbase came on. Si'ara had agreed with that plan, eager to be on her way.

Now, she heard the expected pounding on Priscilla's door. She stopped breathing, straining her ears to try and guess what was going on.

"Can I help you?" Priscilla's voice betrayed none of her dislike of Shinra-she was all politeness and willingness to please.

"Just stand aside, miss. We're looking for a fugitive, and our orders are to search everywhere. Sorry for any inconvenience." The guard sounded sincerely apologetic, and Si'ara wondered what sort of reception he'd been getting if this was how he'd spent his whole day.

"A fugitive? Is he dangerous?" From the tone of her voice, Si'ara could picture Priscilla's wide eyes and concerned expression.

"No, miss." The guards-it sounded like a pair of them-walked through the single room, presumably looking behind and under furniture, and in the closets and bathroom. "It's a woman. She wouldn't hurt you any, but we need to get her back."

"Oh. Well, good luck with that." Priscilla fell silent, so the only sounds for Si'ara to use to picture the scene were the scraping of furniture as the guards looked around, and the occasional opening and closing of a closet door or cupboard.

"Thank you for your help, miss. If you should see anyone you don't know, please find the nearest guard with any information you have."

"Yes, sir, I certainly will," Priscilla assured them, her tone of absolute sincerity bringing a smile to Si'ara's lips. The search party left, moving on to their next destination, and Priscilla locked the door behind them.

Shortly after the guards' visit, Si'ara heard the sound of the carpet above her being dragged aside. "You could probably come out now." Priscilla opened the trapdoor and smiled down at Si'ara, offering her a sandwich and a glass of milk. "It can't be comfortable down there."

"No, I'd better not." Si'ara declined regretfully as she took the welcome lunch, suddenly realizing how hungry she was, and glad that her stomach hadn't growled while the guards were searching. "It's not the most comfortable place I've spent a day, but it's not too bad. And Reno won't stop until he's found me."

"Are you sure?" The younger woman sat down on the floor with her legs crossed, eating her own sandwich while they talked. "A Shinra helicopter left just a little bit ago, heading back towards Midgar, or that's what it looked like. Maybe he had something else to do?"

Si'ara frowned as she considered the possibility. It didn't sound like Reno. Sure, he could be pretty easygoing at times, but after what she'd done, she was pretty sure he wouldn't give up until he'd found her. She remembered finding groaning piles of flesh and pain curled up in the alleys near her bar on more than one occasion-drunks who'd reached the point of suicidal stupidity and had picked a fight with the redhead. He'd never actually jumped them in her bar, but as far as she knew, they'd never made it home in one piece, either. For all his roguish charm and laid-back manner, he was as vindictive as an offended tonberry, and at least as dangerous.

As she deliberated, there was another knock on the door, an unexpected interruption that had Priscilla scrambling to her feet in a rush. Si'ara reached up and caught the trapdoor ass he flipped it over, pulling it closed soundlessly while Priscilla dragged the carpet back into place. "Just a minute," the girl called loudly, and Si'ara heard a rustle of cloth, then the sound of the door being opened.

"Sorry to bother you, darlin', but I'm looking for something I've misplaced." Reno walked into the house almost noiselessly, no doubt slipping past Priscilla, who Si'ara knew would have been blocking the door when she'd opened it.

"As you can see," the spirited young lady said testily, "I was about to get into the shower. Your guards were here earlier-I think they took most of the house apart looking for this fugitive of yours."

"Did they?" There was a note of satisfaction in his voice. "That'll save me a bullet or two-I'm about ready to start weeding out the failures if they can't find what I'm after." Si'ara could picture his lazy perusal of Priscilla as he added, "Well, that leaves me free for a bit, I suppose. You mentioned a shower, yo?"

"I can handle the shower myself!" Priscilla stomped her foot angrily, and Si'ara was unsurprised to hear Reno laugh with a trace of mockery, but without any sign of offense. Given Priscilla's age, she was sure he had counted on her refusal of his implied offer. Reno had a lot of faults, but there were lows to which Si'ara was pretty sure even he wouldn't stoop.

Priscilla, however, wasn't finished being angry, and way Reno laughed added fuel to a long-burning fire. "Is there a reason Shinra is causing more trouble for us today, or is it just business as usual?" she demanded derisively.

A humorless chuckle was her only answer for a moment, as the slight creaking of floorboards marked her uninvited guest's path around her home. "You don't seem fond of the company." To Si'ara's surprise, he sounded bitterly resigned to the idea, and for the first time she wondered how he and the other Shinra employees dealt with the resentment they must receive regularly because of the troubles that Shinra had brought to the planet. They weren't responsible for them-well, not all of them-and they'd been doing what they could to set things right, but old grudges die hard.

"Thank to Shinra, there isn't much left of Junon, in case you hadn't noticed. You poisoned our waters, built your tower and your bases to pollute the town further, then brought a fight we never wanted to our doorstep. You completely destroyed our lives and our way of life, _Turk. _What do you expect?" Finally granted a legitimate target for her anger, Priscilla didn't hold back. "All Shinra has _ever_ done is profit from the suffering of others. You didn't even stop with people or animals-you set your sights on the planet itself! If it hadn't been for AVALANCHE, there wouldn't be anything left of this world, would there?"

"No. I suppose not." Reno's voice was flat, and Si'ara wondered whether Priscilla realized how close that meant he was to losing his temper. "If you happen to see any of the planet's saviours wandering around, let us know, would you?" He slammed the door behind him without waiting for an answer, and Si'ara heard Priscilla collapse to the floor. Neither of them spoke, frightened by the Turk's sudden appearance, and after a few minutes, Priscilla did head to the shower, while Si'ara curled up and hoped that Reno really would leave the town once he failed to find her.


	8. Storms, Sudden Death, and CPR

**Author's Notes**: I'm sure we all know that CPR doesn't work the way it did in the game. It doesn't work the way it does here, either, but let's not be too picky—obviously physics doesn't work quite the same in the FFVII world as it does in ours, so why should anything else?

* * *

Late evening found Si'ara and Priscilla slipping toward the harbor, wrapped in concealing cloaks. A storm had moved in during the day, and flashes of lightning illuminated the cloud-filled sky, blinding anyone foolish enough to look their way. Strong gusts of wind drove the rain sideways in sheets, soaking areas normally protected by overhangs and roofs, and kept all but the most intrepid or desperate indoors.

Priscilla had gone out in the late afternoon, after a second pair of guards had made another search of the house. The storm had already begun complicating the search efforts at that time, and she'd learned that many of the guards had been given the task of searching the road and paths out of Junon, in case Si'ara had escaped unnoticed in the downpour. Of Reno there was no news, and Priscilla was hopeful that he had left. Si'ara had to admit that it was possible-if he felt the town had been thoroughly searched, he wouldn't waste his time remaining there.

Now, she was soaked to the bone and cold, and eager to have this increasingly nightmarish experience over and done with. They reached the edge of the water, choppy and forbidding as the storm whipped it into frothy peaks, and waded out into it up to their knees. Si'ara glanced down at Priscilla, afraid that the girl might want to talk her out of leaving in the storm, but Priscilla pulled out the silver whistle she wore around her neck and used it to call for her dolphin companion. "Just like you watched your boyfriend do it," Priscilla instructed, leaning close to be heard over the diminishing winds, and not noticing the scowl her words brought to Si'ara's brow. "Hold on tight, and let him pull you out to the tower. When I blow the whistle again, he'll jump up to the ladder. Just grab hold, and you should be able to climb from there. At least with this storm raging, no-one should be around to see you when you get to the top."

Si'ara shrugged off her cloak and waded further out into the water, watching the dolphin frolicking as close to shore as he could get. She had rather envied Cloud when he had gotten to ride the graceful creature, and had meant to come back during the years since the tragedies to visit Priscilla and her friend under more pleasant circumstances. One of many things she hadn't gotten around to doing, she realized.

Once she was close enough, the dolphin circled around her, its sleek form brushing against her, but without enough force to knock her off balance. She grabbed hold of its fin, hoping that was the right thing to do, and laughed in delight as it surged forward, pulling her swiftly to the base of the tower. As she'd seen Cloud do, she climbed onto the dolphin's back, stretching up as far as she could reach and still hold on. A whistle cut through the storm, and the powerful body beneath her curved and twisted as the dolphin leapt, carrying her easily to within reach of the ladder.

Si'ara grabbed the cold metal rungs with both hands and watched as the dolphin splashed back down into the harbor. She made certain of her grip on the rain-slicked bars, then pulled herself up, taking her time to avoid falling into the water, but resenting every extra minute of the arduous ascent. She felt exposed and vulnerable on the side of the tower, and wanted to be safely at the airbase, under cover and on her way home.

Priscilla chewed on her lower lip as she watched her friend climb, as eager as Si'ara was to see her safely at the top. The winds and rain had died down considerably in the last hour or so, but she knew that the ladder, ill-maintained and a treacherous climb under the best circumstances, would be cold and slippery, resisting any efforts to find a secure hold. She decided to wait until she saw her safely to the top, and walked out of the water, but stopped on the beach, her whistle in hand in case the dolphin's aid was needed once more.

Reno had come to the conclusion that he would need to visit some of the planet's seedier back alleys and whorehouses soon-he was running out of new expletives to throw at his current situation. The storm might present a problem for Si'ara, but it was more of a difficulty for him, as it made searching for her dangerous and reduced the chance of success. He pushed away the brief flash of concern induced by a vision he had of her getting caught in a mudslide or a flash flood outside Junon, and instead spent some time imagining how things would go if he could find her in such a helpless situation. At the moment, the thought of having her injured and weak, vulnerable, and completely in his control, held a great deal of appeal. He really wanted teach her a thing or two about what happened to people who opposed the Turks, and more specifically, those who opposed Reno himself.

With these somewhat entertaining thoughts in mind, he started back down to the older part of town, recalling an odd catch in that Shinra-hating young woman's voice when she'd mentioned AVALANCHE. He supposed he should have followed up on it sooner, but he'd been in a hurry to find his quarry, and the one-room house had already been searched. Still, it couldn't hurt to look into it now-he didn't have any other leads.

No-one responded to his impatient knocks on the door, and when he picked the lock and looked inside, the place proved to be empty. He frowned, suddenly suspicious as he wondered what reason she might have to be out in weather like this. The storm was actually letting up-the winds had died away to almost nothing, and the rain was no more than a drizzle, but lightning continued to bridge the gap between heavens and earth with deadly results, and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, promising more bad weather to come.

After a moment of thought, he decided that the most likely explanation for the girl's absence was the bar nearby-if he recalled correctly, they were said to serve pretty decent food, no doubt a pleasant alternative to dining alone, assuming you enjoyed the company of fishermen and their ilk. He headed in that direction, glad to at least have a purpose in mind-most of the day had been spent in fruitless searching, checking the same places again and again, finding nothing. Reno wasn't accustomed to failure, and on the rare occasions when he had to deal with it, it grated on his nerves. His mood, therefore, had deteriorated steadily through the day.

As he walked down the steps that led up to the young woman's house, he spotted several of the guards he had brought with him heading down the street, talking amongst themselves. Annoyed by the fact that they were socializing and enjoying themselves instead of searching for Si'ara, he motioned sharply for them to follow him, and was gratified by their instant obedience. It would be handy to have them along-if he did find the Junon woman at the bar, he intended to question her thoroughly, and he had no intention of allowing any well-meaning patrons to interfere.

Before he actually reached the bar with his half-dozen guards in tow, however, a flash of lightning illuminated the tower in the harbor, and a movement caught his attention. He walked over to the top of the rocky trail that led down to the beach, hoping for a better look the next time the storm lit the sky. When it did, he cursed loudly and headed down the treacherous path with as much speed as he could manage without falling.

"Get in there and get her off that damned tower," he yelled at the closest guard, pointing at Si'ara, who was already nearing the top of the ladder that climbed the tower's side. He had spotted the girl he was looking for as well-her attention was fixed on the tower, but she turned when she heard him, and looked around quickly for an escape, shouting Si'ara's name as she did.

"Sir?" The guard moved toward the water hesitantly. "I can't swim, sir." He was already pulling off his helmet and kicking off his boots, though, clearly intending to follow the Turk's order-drowning almost certainly preferable to whatever Reno would come up with if he refused to go get the woman now that they had found her. Reno, however, waved at him dismissively as he grabbed the girl standing on the beach, twisting her arm up behind her back and pulling her against him.

Si'ara heard Priscilla's startled shout and turned towards her, but the beach was shrouded in darkness, and at first she couldn't see what was happening. The next flash of lightning, however, illuminated a scene that chilled her blood. Reno was standing on the rocky beach with a group of Shinra guards, and he had Priscilla pinned against him, his gun to her temple, obviously waiting for Si'ara's attention.

"Get. Down. Here. Now." The Turk shouted each word clearly, then pulled up on Priscilla's arm with a sharp motion, eliciting a startled scream that punctuated his command. "Or the population of Junon drops by one."

She could hear him plainly, caught as they seemed to be in the eye of the raging storm, the air comparatively still and silent. His tone and stance left her in little doubt as to the sincerity of his words, although part of her wanted to believe that he wouldn't kill an innocent woman in cold blood. It wasn't a chance she was willing to take, and she knew she had no choice but to do as he said. Before she could react, however, one of the guards stepped forward, raising one hand, the other moving toward his belt.

"Sir," he protested forcefully as Priscilla choked back a soft cry, "you can't mean that. She's only a girl." From the sound of his voice, Si'ara recognized him as one of the guards who had first searched Priscilla's house. His hand closed on the nightstick at his waist, almost certainly more out of habit than with any belief that it could be used to deter the Turk standing in front of him. "Let go of her, please."

Without taking his eyes off of Si'ara, Reno tightened his grip on Priscilla, switched targets briefly and pulled the trigger, then placed the gun back against Priscilla's head before the guard's falling body or the accompanying spray of crimson hit the rocky beach.

As he watched Si'ara's horrified reaction, Reno realized that he was glad for the guard's interference. The distraction kept his head level, kept him focused on the task at hand. Kept him from thinking how cold Si'ara's fingers must be, and how slick the rain was making the ladder, how precarious her situation was-only a consideration, of course, because he had to get her back to Midgar safely. The guard's death also should have brought home to Si'ara something she might have forgotten-that Reno's hands were stained with so much blood it could fill this harbor. One more life-be it hers, the girl's, or the guard's-wouldn't make a difference.

It was clear that she had taken him seriously-she was moving before the echo of the gunshot died away, letting go of the rung she was holding and reaching for the one below it. Unlike Reno, however, she had failed to realize how numb her fingers had become while she'd hesitated here, trying to see what was happening. The stiffened digits refused to curl around the rung she was moving to, but she only realized that when she let go with the other hand and discovered that she was no longer holding the ladder.

She made a desperate attempt to catch herself, grabbing at the ladder with fingers that wouldn't do what she wanted them to. Before she even realized what was happening, the water was rushing toward her, a deeper darkness than the surrounding night filling her vision. She slammed into it before she could react, and unconsciousness claimed her, a welcome respite from the pain that came with impact.

Reno had realized what was happening before Si'ara had. He spat out an angry curse, shoved the girl-hard-toward one of the guards, and ran into the water, shedding his jacket and shoes as he crossed the few yards of beach. Swimming wasn't his forté, but it was a survival skill, and all Turks had to learn the basics. He reached the place where he thought Si'ara had landed, drew a deep breath, and dove under the water.

Everything around him was dark and cold, the water an oppressive weight pushing against him from all sides. Sea salt burned his eyes as he searched the rolling waters, looking for some trace of his escaped captive. Time passed without success, and he could feel his lungs aching, desperate for air. He told them to go to hell and kept searching. Si'ara had fallen in before him-as long as he could stay under without going up for air, there was a chance that he could still find her.

A flash of lightning somewhere above offered brief illumination, and he finally caught sight of her further out to sea, silver hair rising around her as she sank limply toward the bottom. He cursed inwardly at the distance between them even as he started to swim toward her. There was no chance he could reach her at the rate she was sinking-she was simply too far away. Si'ara was going to die-by threatening the girl on the beach, he had accomplished what he had never managed to do with fists or weapons.

An unfamiliar combination of guilt and loss caught Reno off guard as in a sudden flash of insight he realized that he would actually miss the silver-haired barmaid. Although they'd been opponents more often than allies, he'd spent a great deal of time in the various bars she'd owned, and she had always treated him with the same respect he'd shown her. In an odd way, simply because she was one of very few people he'd known for so long, he considered her to be something similar to a friend, and he didn't want to see her die like this.

Even as he came to that realization, however, a blue streak swept past him, pushing him to the side, then dragging him along briefly in its wake. He recognized it immediately-the dolphin that had carried her to the tower was now-finally-rushing to her aid. Though he was reluctant to leave her fate to what he saw as a presumptuous seafood platter, once he was certain that the creature was indeed pushing her to the surface, Reno rushed up for a much-needed breath of air. That accomplished, he swam to where the dolphin was surfacing with Si'ara's limp form draped over its back.

He reached for her, but the dolphin twisted aside and circled around him, keeping its distance as it moved in the general direction of the shore. Reno went for his gun, then realized that it was soaked through, and although it might fire, it would be best to let it dry first. Besides, time was of the essence, and the dolphin could swim a lot faster than him.

He nodded to it as though it might understand him. "Get her to shore as quick as you can, yo. She'll be fine if we get her to shore." He knew full well that it was himself he was trying to convince, but to his surprise, the dolphin changed course and swam back toward him. He started to reach for Si'ara, then stopped, not wanting the animal to shy away again. "I'll just tag along, yeah?" he said wearily, reaching out slowly to take hold of its fin without scaring it, then sliding a hand under Si'ara's head to hold it above water. Sure enough, the creature pulled them both swiftly to shallow waters. Reno grabbed Si'ara as soon as he felt the solid ground beneath him, lifting her in his arms as he hurried to the shore. She wasn't breathing, and it shocked him to realize how willing he would be to forgive her earlier actions if she would just please not die.

"You need to give her CPR," Priscilla said shakily, standing still between two guards, her arms handcuffed in front of her.

"Well, Sleipnir's fucking nuts! It's a good thing you're here to tell me that." Sarcasm dripped from his words like the dirty harbor water now pooling at his feet. Finding a level spot on the beach, he lowered Si'ara's limp body to the ground and knelt beside her. "Oh, wait. You're the one who had her climbing that damn tower in the first place, aren't you?" He shot the girl a disgusted look, conveying with a glance his belief that she was to blame for Si'ara's condition. "What, was getting her killed not part of your plan?"

"Please, just save her." The girl didn't offer any excuses, just bit her lip and watched fearfully as Reno made sure none of Si'ara's hair or clothing was wrapped tight around her neck or chest.

Once he was sure that nothing external was impeding her breathing, he leaned down and closed his lips over hers, trying not to remember the last time he'd done so. Instead, he concentrated on filling her lungs with air, then forcing it out quickly, trying to get her to start breathing on her own. A few repetitions, and nothing. Her heartbeat had faded to the point where he wasn't sure whether he was hearing it or imagining it, and he knew that any hope of her reviving was fading fast. Despair washed through him and made him wonder what he had expected. Death was his trade, not life. An unrepentant devil forced to play an angel's role, his efforts had been doomed to fail from the start.

Desperate for a solution, and unwilling to accept failure, Reno peeled back his wet sleeve and dropped his EMR into his hand, fiddling with the setting briefly. Careful not to touch Si'ara otherwise, he laid it against her chest and activated it, sending a jolt of electricity through her system.

The girl that the guards were holding screamed and lunged toward him, and while the guards restrained her, Reno shot her a look of pure, venomous hatred. "You did your best to see her drowned," he reminded her viciously. "If you don't mind, _I'm_ gonna try to keep her alive." Keep, he assured himself. She's not dead. Just…close. As the guards forced the girl to her knees, he added, "If she dies, I'm shooting the dolphin and drowning you in its blood in the harbor."

He filled her lungs with air again, then tried another shock with the EMR. As he put his hands on her chest to empty her lungs, he could feel her heart beating faintly, and an insidious tendril of hope wormed its way into his mind. He started to push down on her chest, and she coughed abruptly, her eyelids fluttering without opening. Encouraged by her response, he turned her onto her side quickly to let the water she was coughing up trickle onto the beach, then pulled her into a more upright position across his lap, waiting to see if she would be alright on her own now.

Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she took another shaky breath. Relief flooded through Reno, washing away the adrenaline on which he'd been running. He pulled her closer, closing his eyes and bending his head to brush his lips across her hair-

"Is she all right?" Priscilla's concerned interruption broke the spell that seemed to have come over Reno, reminding him of the harsh reality of this situation.

Si'ara turned her head toward Priscilla's voice as Reno slid her back down to the ground with a scowl. Hazy violet eyes stared at the young girl for a moment, then she looked back to Reno, confusion giving way to a gradual awareness of her surroundings. "Let me up," she said weakly, trying to push herself up off of the rocks. "Tell them to let her go."

Reno shot a warning look at the guards in case they had any confusion about who they worked for, but the rapidly-cooling corpse lying near the water's edge seemed to be a sufficient reminder. He put his hand on Si'ara's chest and pinned her to the ground easily. "Try to remember who's in charge here, babe," he said sarcastically. "Why don't you just work on breathing for a minute, okay?"

He pulled his hand back as a fit of coughing took her. From what he'd felt while he was trying to get her to breathe, he thought she might have a couple of cracked ribs. The look on her face as she coughed supported that theory-she tried to stop coughing, wrapping her arms across her chest, but her body knew better, and worked on expelling the last of the water from her lungs.

She rolled to her knees abruptly, still trying to stand-whether to get away or to get to Priscilla, Reno didn't know or care. With an angry snarl, he grabbed her wrists and flipped her onto her back, then pinned her down to the sand, making it clear to her just who was in control. The Junon girl was silent now, obviously afraid of doing anything to anger him further, but he was already furious, relief giving way to anger now that he knew Si'ara was going to be alright. She had manipulated him, tricked him, made him look incompetent to the guards and to Rufus. She had done all she could to undermine reputation as a Turk-the focus around which he'd built his life. He told himself that that was where the anger came from. It had nothing to do with the genuine terror he'd felt at the thought that she was dead.

Eyes locked on hers, he waited to be sure she had a good idea what was going through his mind before he eased off of her slightly. She closed her eyes and stopped struggling, her only movement a weak cough she couldn't seem to stop.

One of the guards came over, carrying Reno's discarded jacket and shoes. He took the jacket and motioned for the guard to drop the shoes while he fished around in his pocket until he found a pair of handcuffs. Mindful of her various skills, he rolled his recovered captive onto her side and cuffed her hands behind her back, then pulled her to her feet and handed her over to the guard. "Take her back to the house," he ordered. "Wait for me outside." From what he'd heard, the employee who owned the house had had a great deal to say about the broken window, although he had said none of it to Reno. Reno was more than willing to let him take it out on Si'ara.

He turned back to the guards holding Priscilla, his gaze settling on the girl with malicious anticipation. He had every intention of letting her know exactly what she could expect in the way of retribution for having knowingly stood in the way of the Turks. But something of the role he had been playing responded to the look in the young girl's eyes, and he hesitated. It was a look he'd seen far too often-fear mixed with defiance-the expression of someone who knew they were going to pay for what they'd done, but knew just as certainly that what they had done was right.

He turned away sharply, tired of this mission with its unexpected complications. "Toss her in a cell for a day or two," he said irritably, trying not to notice that Si'ara lifted her head at his words and tried to turn back toward him. "Don't let her talk to anyone, but see that she's comfortable enough and fed. Tell them to let her out once we leave town."

"Sir." The guards nodded, and if their orders surprised them, they gave no sign of it.

"You can clean up that mess." He turned his attention to the remaining guard and nodded toward the body. "Box up his personals, bring me his weapons and ID." It was standard procedure, and the guard saluted, then headed for the corpse.

Reno sighed, ready for this day to be over, and headed into town after Si'ara and her guards.


	9. Reunion, Tactics, and Disguises

**Author's Notes**: Again with the flashback/memories/dream thing. I never finished "Dirge of Cerberus," so the events revolving around the attack on Kalm are pretty vague. The main purpose of the flashbacks is to show the interactions between the various characters during the time between Advent Children and the current story. But to make up for posting flashbacks, I always post a piece of story after it, so it's a 2-chapter bonus week!

* * *

_After their rescue from Kalm, Vincent had insisted that Reno take them to Rocket Town to find Cid and Shera. Reno had been equally adamant in his determination to take them to Edge instead. Naturally, Si'ara had backed Vincent, and just as naturally, Rude had backed Reno. The Turks had the advantage-the helicopter was theirs, so there was no reason for them to bargain or to do as their passengers wished. But in the end, Reno had offered a compromise, contacting Cid by radio and asking him to meet them at Healin Lodge._

_Cid and Shera had arrived while Si'ara and the child were being treated for minor burns and smoke inhalation, and they had Nanaki with them. Reeve Tuesti, upon learning that Vincent and Si'ara were heading for the lodge, had come out to visit, turning their stay into a mini-reunion of old friends. Rufus and the Turks were staying at the lodge already, and everyone wanted to know what had happened in Kalm. Once Si'ara was well enough to talk, she and Vincent had described to the assembled crowd all that they had seen and heard._

_Rufus immediately discerned Vincent's intention to return to Kalm to search for some explanation for the attack. Unfortunately, Cid explained regretfully that the Highwind was out of commission-he had flown himself, Nanaki, and Shera to Edge in a helicopter, which wouldn't carry them to Kalm if Si'ara and Vincent were both to go as well. Vincent, knowing full well that Si'ara would refuse to stay behind, said that another option would need to be found._

_Reno had immediately offered to fly them out there in a WRO airship, which, as he pointed out, would carry all of them comfortably, and was already stocked with supplies they could take to any survivors that might be found. Reeve had agreed to this plan, but only if he could go along. Rufus had simply watched, apparently well enough pleased with the direction the plans were taking, and so the decision was made._

_They had found Kalm still smoldering upon their arrival. Reno had set them down outside of the town, but to Si'ara's surprise, had informed them that he'd be waiting to hear what they found before he took off._

"_No tellin' where your attackers came from, or if you'll find anything here, yo," he'd pointed out with his usual insouciant grin. "I'm here already, so if you need a lift, I might as well take you wherever you're headed next."_

_They'd split up to go through the town. Si'ara and Shera had gone together, looking for survivors and doing what they could for any they found. Vincent and Reeve had teamed up, with Reeve's robot companion, Cait Sith, as an added resource. Cid and Nanaki had had made up the third pair, checking the perimeter while Vincent and Reeve headed for the center of town._

_And as it turned out, Reno had been right. There was nothing left for them in Kalm, but they did learn where they needed to go next-a hidden facility in the mountains where the attacking forces had fled after raining destruction and fire on Kalm. _

_Si'ara had known immediately that Vincent didn't want to take them all into danger with him. She, Cid, and Shera were determined not to let him go alone. Reeve and Nanaki were neutral, willing to abide by Vincent's wishes, but wanting the mission to succeed. While the two of them were watching Si'ara and Shera argue their point, Reno had spoken up from where he stood-or rather, slouched-unnoticed, against the wall by the door._

"_So, what you need is a distraction, right, so you can slip in unnoticed and do whatever you're gonna do?" He'd spoken directly to Vincent, making eye contact with him and ignoring the rest of them as though they weren't there._

"_Yes." Vincent had nodded, and the conversation was suddenly a discussion between two Turks, the rest of them silent observers._

"_All right." He'd pushed off the wall lazily and walked toward the older man. "By now, we oughta figure they know you're in this airship. Chances are, they were watching Kalm, which means they've seen all of you." He'd grinned that cocky grin of his. "Lucky for you, you've got me as well, yo. If that thing," gesturing at Cait Sith, "will let you monitor the autopilot," a questioning glance at Reeve, who nodded once, "then the six of us can attack from the front, while you slip in alone."_

"_Reno, with that hair of yours, you stand out like a sore thumb. I think they'll notice that you aren't Vincent." Shera had said it carefully, not wanting to offend the Turk while he was being helpful, but not wanting to leave any holes in the plan, and not entirely convinced that letting Vincent go in by himself was the right idea._

"_Hair dye'll fix that," Reno had said with a wink. "If Vinnie'll loan me his cloak-"_

"_No." Vincent had spoken in his usual soft voice, but as always, it cut through any other sounds in the room. Reno looked at him questioningly, while Si'ara moved up beside him, ready to support him if Reno tried to argue. "Nothing personal, Reno, but I'm rather attached to it." He looked down at Si'ara as she lay her hand on his arm. "Will you go and get Death Penalty for me?" It was one of his signature weapons, and there were few people he allowed to handle it._

_Si'ara hesitated, searching his eyes, then nodded. "I'll get it." She didn't want to leave without finding out what he had planned, though, and he smiled slightly, knowing that._

"_Bring a red cloak as well. With those two items, and you fighting at his side, Reno should be able to fool them long enough." Vincent had covered her hand with his clawed gold gauntlet, curling it around her hand carefully, and she had released him, then hurried off to get the items he asked for._

_They'd had the fortune to run into heavy cloud cover as they neared the facility, and had determined that they could get almost to the front door without being visible. The plan was to drop down in three groups, two hitting the guard towers, and one at the front door. They would do all they could to actually get inside the building without risking capture, both to make the attack look as real as possible, and to learn what they could, in case something happened and Vincent didn't make it in._

"_You gonna be okay with this?" Reno had asked, wrapping a red sash around his head, under the now-black hair. "If you can't work with me, say so now." He'd shot her a sidelong smirk. "But I guess that'd be letting Vinnie down, wouldn't it?"_

"_Stop calling him that." She went over her small weapons cache swiftly. Hand-to-hand martial arts were her specialty, but for this she carried throwing knives and a small sidearm as well. "I can handle it if you can."_

"_If you'll turn loose of that rifle." This time, the look he'd given her was a leer, pure and simple. "You know, I could read a lot into the way you hang onta that thing, yo."_

_She'd grabbed it from the wall where she'd leaned it (staying between it and him), about to toss it at him. But it was Vincent's gun, and she knew he wouldn't want that, so she'd taken hold of the barrel and handed it to him carefully. "There. Happy?"_

"_Happier than you are." He'd tilted his head to the side as he took it from her with as much care as she'd shown in handling it. "He'll be all right, you know."_

_Startled, she'd glanced up at him, seeing an odd amalgamation of Reno and Vincent staring back. "Yeah, I guess. I just don't like it."_

"_But you respect him enough to let him do it, right?" He turned his attention to the gun, checking it carefully, and tucking the magazines into his pockets. "I know he has that much respect for you."_

_She'd stared out the window without responding, then walked to the cargo bay, from which they would drop to assault the facility. Only when he'd walked up next to her there did she look at him again. "Thanks, Reno," she'd said softly. "I need to be reminded of these things once in a while."_

_Reno had just looked down at her with his self-satisfied little smirk. "I gotcher back, babe," he'd said, then he'd hit the button to drop them in front of the gate._


	10. A New Day, Reflections, and a Buggy

**Author's Notes**: **If you're only reading part of this, or if you start reading it and then lose interest, feel free to drop me a line and let me know why-pacing, characters not engaging your interest, dislike of OC's, etc. Thanks!**

Okay, by now you've probably figured out that my notes don't necessarily relate to the chapter at hand. Here, I'll remind you that the story is available in Word format for those who comment and would like to get it that way. Also, it seems obvious to me that distance in the FFVII world is a matter of convenience. (As evidenced by the time it takes to travel to the Ancient City in the game vs. Advent Children. So, it takes as long as I want for characters to travel from point A to point B.

* * *

Si'ara awoke to find herself naked in the same bed she'd awoken in before her escape, this time handcuffed to the headboard. Reno's lanky form was stretched out in the plush, velvety chair-arms folded over his chest, eyes closed-and Si'ara's clothes were in a neatly folded pile on the dresser. The bottom half of the window had been boarded up, but she could see that the rain had finally stopped, although the gusting winds still howled through the town.

Faint memories of the night before swam through her mind-the guards half dragging, half carrying her back to the house, being yelled at by the angry homeowner, red hair on a black jacket as Reno had stepped between them abruptly, speaking sharply to the man and putting an end to his tirade. At that point, she had collapsed, and her last memory was of Reno turning swiftly to catch her, pushing aside the guards as they tried to pull her back to her feet.

"We'll be leaving in an hour or so. Thanks to you, we'll be traveling by buggy instead of helicopter-this damned storm is too much for the lousy pilots Rufus has available to handle." Reno didn't open his eyes or move, just gave her the information in a flat, business-like tone.

Si'ara ached all over, inside and out, from her fall from the tower and subsequent near-drowning. She wasn't in any mood to sympathize with Reno over not getting a helicopter like he'd wanted. Besides, traveling by ground meant it would take much longer to get to Midgar, which was fine with her. This attempt at fleeing had failed, but she was by no means resigned to her fate.

"Didn't have to wait for me, you know," she pointed out. "I heard the chopper was here-you could have taken it back to Midgar without me."

Reno did open his eyes then, and pushed himself to his feet. "Getting stuck in a car with you and a couple of guards for a day or two beats going back to Rufus empty-handed." He walked over to the window and looked out through the upper portion. "It's not too bad here, but the storm's moved up to Midgar-it'll be that long before anyone can pick us up."

"Is Rufus really that bad?" She was curious about that-she had a fairly low opinion of Shinra's president, but she had been under the impression that the Turks actually liked him.

"He doesn't tolerate failures, babe. No Shinra ever has." He turned back toward her, and the thought popped into her head that he had obviously undressed her and put her to bed last night. She looked away quickly.

"Would you mind taking these handcuffs off?" she asked in an acid tone. "I'd like to use the bathroom."

"Not a chance," Reno said flatly. "You'll be in handcuffs until we get to Midgar."

"I notice you seem to keep a set handy-I'm guessing I'm not the first woman to wake up like this in your company." She wasn't watching him, and failed to see the way his eyes narrowed at her words. "Must be useful for keeping your usual tramps in line. I guess you don't want women like that wandering freely through your place, do you?"

She turned quickly at his footsteps, and stared up at him as he stopped by the bed.

"You know what, Si'ara?" He looked down at her, contempt glittering in storm-grey eyes. "Those pieces of gutter-trash, the tramps, hussies, whatever-you-call-them that I choose to spend my time with? They have more class than you do. Oh, they'll sink pretty low sometimes," he added, "but not as low as it seems you're willing to go." Disdain dripped from every word.

Hurt and hatred shot through Si'ara like a jolt from the Turk's EMR-hatred at him for pointing out what a terrible person she was, hatred at herself for what she had done, and above all, hatred for the tears that slid from the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw, stopped breathing so she wouldn't betray herself with a gasp or a choked-out sob, and turned away from him, just wishing that he would leave.

Footsteps crossed the floor, and she heard the door open, then slam shut. Alone at last, she rolled onto her side, pulled her legs up in front of her, and cried into the pillow, burning tears of rage soaking into the fabric and feathers.

_It should have worked!_ She had taken him out cleanly, and had gotten out of the house and away. She'd spent the entire day hiding from him while he and his lackeys combed Junon, east to west, north to south, until there was nowhere they hadn't looked. He should have left before she tried to climb the tower! Then there would be none of this guilt, only relief at having outwitted him and escaped. She would be halfway to Wutai by now, heading for Yuffie and her irrepressible humor, or contacting Vincent, or in the air with Cid. Not here. Not like this.

And merciful Shiva, why hadn't he let her drown? She was in no hurry to die, but to be saved by _him_? For one brief moment, she remembered the look on his face when she'd opened her eyes, before he'd pinned her down and yelled at her. The way his eyes had slipped shut and he'd ducked his head toward her, arms tightening around her protectively. Protectively? Possessively? That was more likely, she reasoned. And any relief she'd seen in his eyes was surely related to his success on his mission as a Turk, not to her well-being.

Reno stormed down the hallway in a rage, barely aware of the guards pressing themselves back against the wall as he passed, terrified of drawing his attention. How _dare_ she? He had expected her to snap back some derogatory rejoinder, some comment about his preference for the company of low-life scum and cheap hookers, not to look like he'd just punched her in the gut or shot her puppy. What _right_ did she have? _She_ was the one who had tricked _him_, fooled him into trusting her only to turn on him the moment he let his guard slip. What in Ifrit's _blazes _was she crying about?

"Fuck!" He turned abruptly and punched the wall, staring at it in abstract bemusement when his fist went through the thin wood. As he pulled his hand back through, a piece of it fell away, revealing two children with wide, startled eyes, looking up to see what was going on. He recognized them as the homeowner's sons, out of diapers, but not yet into cars and girls.

To his surprise, when they saw him, both of them grinned and waved instead of looking away. He reacted without thought, waving back, then turned to glower at their father, who had come into the hallway to see what his "guests" had broken this time. "Something you wanted?" he asked darkly, one brow arching up toward his ever-present goggles.

"Ah, no. No, sir." The man hurried back into his room, less concerned with any damage done to his home at this point than with his own well-being.. Reno returned his attention to the hole in the wall, and found one of the boys sticking his hand through it, delighted by this new and exciting addition to the house.

Reno grabbed the waving fingers, and grinned at the resulting squeal as the hand was quickly withdrawn. The interruption had dulled his rage, and the energy that had come with it was draining away. He found a cigarette and lit it, then wandered downstairs and out onto the porch to lean against the wall, smoke, and watch the lightning as it sliced through the grey late-morning sky, promising more of the storm that was keeping him grounded. With a sigh, he flicked the end of the cigarette over the railing, then headed inside.

Si'ara had found solace neither in tears nor in the pounding she'd given the poor pillow when it had gotten too damp to be comfortable. All the latter had done, really, was remind her how little room she had to move with her wrists bound to the bed-she'd had to resort to head-butting a bag of feathers-hardly a satisfying fight. Now, worn out, she lay on her back, pillow on the floor beside the bed where she'd managed to throw it off with her teeth.

She rolled over to face the wall when she heard the door open, but it seemed that Reno was in no mood to leave her in peace. She felt his weight on the bed, then one slender and surprisingly strong hand wrapped around her wrists, forcing them closer to the headboard so he could unfasten the cuffs holding her there.

"Get up," he said irritably, pulling her upright as he stood, "and go wash yourself. You smell like you fell in the damned harbor."

Si'ara winced as he let go of her arms and she found herself supporting the weight of limbs that had spent an entire night pulled up over her head. He caught them reflexively, then let go with a scowl, and strode over to the door, throwing it open.

"Bathroom's there," he snapped, jerking his thumb toward a door she could just see across the hall. "There's no window for you to break, and the guards in the hall have orders to shoot on sight. You have ten minutes, then I'll come get you, finished or not."

Si'ara waited for him to move out of the doorway, then stood, pulling the quilt around herself. She picked up her stack of clothes, and slipped across the hall into the bathroom. She wasn't quite sure what had prompted him to let her up like this, but she wasn't about to waste the opportunity. And although she wasn't thrilled by the thought of Reno undressing her, it was definitely a relief to have her own clean clothes to wear once she had showered.

The hot water felt good on her aching body-she looked herself over as best she could, and the side where she'd hit the water was more bruised than not. Other than that, she was just sore from coughing up so much of the harbor, and from having her arms over her head all night.

Well, physically that was all that was wrong with her. Mentally, she was a bit of a wreck. Reno's earlier words were justified, and she knew it. It wasn't like her to play that sort of game-she despise the sort of person who used their affections to manipulate others and get what they wanted from them. It made her sick to think that she'd joined their ranks. On the other hand, she had to do whatever it took to get away from Reno and avoid being carted off to Rufus. If only it had worked…

Reno watched the door close behind Si'ara, and went back into the bedroom to make sure they weren't leaving anything behind. He was ready to get out of Junon, and relegate all that had happened there to the past. Favouring the empty room with a scowl, he flopped down on the bed to wait out the rest of her ten minutes.

It had dawned on him while he'd been smoking that his anger over her actions stemmed mostly from the fact that they'd caught him completely off guard, and that he had actually thought for a moment that she was something he could have. She wasn't the kind of woman he was used to, and although he'd entertained daydreams-and other thoughts-about her, he'd never believed that she would let him touch her, until that kiss. He sighed, and stared at the ceiling. With regards to the fact that she'd used a kiss to get him off guard so she could attack, well, he had to admit that he'd've done the same, if he'd been her. It was clear that she was afraid of being taken to Midgar and Rufus for some reason, so he should expect her to use any means necessary to try to escape.

And to be fair, she probably hadn't expected him to take something as simple as a kiss seriously. He had a well-earned reputation, after all-one-night stands, wild parties, brief encounters in back rooms, nightclubs-anywhere two (or more) people could fit with room to move. So she'd done it to escape, not as a slap in his face, so to speak. He could accept that. The rest of the trip would be a lot easier if they could at least pretend to get along.

Si'ara was pulling her shirt on when someone knocked on the door. She opened it a crack and found Reno standing there, his expression unreadable, but at least no longer radiating disgust or simmering rage.

"Time's up, yo" he informed her. "We need to get going-we have a lot of driving to do today."

Si'ara nodded, relieved by his return to something approaching the Reno she was used to. "Just let me get my boots on, and I'll be right there." She didn't close the door, and he leaned against the wall outside, to wait for her.

"You alright?" he asked quietly, and she glanced up, startled. Thin lips curled in an only slightly mocking grin. "Contrary to what I'm sure you're thinking, I had the owner's wife strip you down last night. She said you were pretty banged up, but nothing seemed to be broken."

Si'ara's cheeks flushed, betraying the fact that she'd assumed he'd undressed her himself, but she nodded as she pulled on her boots and buckled them closed. "Yeah, I'll survive," she said. "I ache all over, and I think a couple ribs might be cracked, but I've had worse."

Reno nodded. They all had-there wasn't a single one of them who hadn't come near death at some point in the last few years. AVALANCHE's attacks on the reactors, the hunt for Sephiroth and ensuing chaos, the return of his Remnants, all had taken their toll. "'Had worse' doesn't stop it from hurtin', though," he pointed out mildly. "I can scrounge up some pain pills if you want."

Si'ara straightened and opened the door the rest of the way. "I'll be fine," she repeated.

Reno shrugged, and led the way down the hall, motioning for a couple of the guards to follow. At the door to the house, he took hold of her arm, nothing rough or painful, but a grip that made it clear he wasn't letting go, so running would be a bad plan. Still, she obviously resented it, and jerked against him to test his grip before giving up and following him out.

He opened the front door of the buggy with his free hand and ushered her inside, then gestured to the guards to get in the back. A couple more stood by the vehicle while he walked around to the other side and climbed in.

"What about your secretary, or whatever she was?" Si'ara asked without looking at him. "Leaving her behind?"

"She went back to Midgar with the chopper." Reno glared at the buggy, comparing it to his beloved helicopter and finding that it fell predictably short. "You need her for something?" The buggy's engine roared to life as he turned the key, and he pulled the door shut. "We have everything?" he called back to the guards, who replied in the affirmative.

Si'ara made an irritated sound in response to his question about the blonde, and turned toward the window. He made a point of hitting the button that locked all the doors, and caught the startled, slightly hurt look she threw him in response. For some reason, it caused him to regret, if not his action, then at least the spiteful way in which he'd done it.

"No radio." He scowled at the dash, hating the wretched vehicle just that much more than he had before making that discovery. As he left Junon behind him at last, he tapped a button, rolling his window down, then dug in his pocket, pulling out a slender metal case and opening it to reveal a tidy row of black cigarettes. Holding the steering wheel with a knee, he took one out and lit it, leaning back and taking a long drag before exhaling in the general direction of the window. A sidelong glance revealed Si'ara, sitting a little awkwardly to avoid having her bruises jolted as the buggy bounced over the neglected road. She had her head turned away from him still, looking out at the passing scenery.

Reno considered her thoughtfully for a moment, then opened her window partway, turning his attention back to the road as he did so and placing one hand on the wheel. He did so to make it clear that he was paying attention to the road, not to his unwilling companion, but after a moment he found himself maneuvering carefully to avoid the larger potholes and cracked sections of road.

Si'ara shot him a startled look when he opened the window, but as his attention had clearly been elsewhere, she returned to staring at the fields outside of Junon. The winds had died down for now, and birds were circling above them, taking the opportunity to forage and hunt. Watching them was relaxing, and she found her mood improving.

The first time Reno swung the vehicle around a large pothole, she thought it might be coincidence, but after he avoided the next few uneven surfaces, she was certain he was doing it on purpose. "Probably doesn't like being jolted around," she told herself, unwilling to jump to any conclusion that involved him showing concern for her. However, there was something she wanted to ask him, and this seemed like as good a time as any.

Reno saw Si'ara move before her hand touched his arm, but feigned inattention, curious to see what she had in mind. When she lay her fingers on his arm hesitantly, reminding him oddly of the gentle and tender touches he'd seen her exchange with the lethal gunman, Vincent Valentine, he turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow in query.

Si'ara watched as the red-haired Turk took the cigarette from between his lips and flicked it out the window, his eyes still on her. Taking a fortifying breath, she asked him, "What you said back on the beach, about Priscilla?" His expression didn't change, so she continued. "Did you mean that? Once we're gone, they'll let her go?"

Reno considered lying to her, letting her think that because of her and her betrayal, the girl would suffer the fate reserved for most who stood in the way of the Turks. Instead, he looked away, raising his hand to the top of the steering wheel, effectively shaking off her touch without doing so abruptly or blatantly. "You heard what I said, yo. Was there a word in there you didn't understand?"

Si'ara pulled her hand back, stung by the fact that he seemed determined to keep as much distance between them as possible. "No. I understood the words. I just wondered whether that was what the guards would really do."

"They'll do what I tell them to do, babe." He favored her with a sardonic glance. "I threaten people's lives and all to get whatever I want, remember?"

Si'ara looked away without seeing the grin that followed his words, and went back to staring out the window, shifting away from him in much the same way that he'd drawn away from her moments ago. A moment later, though, she turned back with a frown, figuring that if he was annoyed with her already, she might as well ask him about something else.

"Why did you shoot the guard?" It had surprised her, and she wasn't sure why. She had thought, after all, that it was possible he might shoot Priscilla. But the casual way he had pulled the trigger without even sparing a glance for the man he was killing had been a shock.

Reno shrugged carelessly, noting the sudden attention the passengers in the back were paying to the conversation. "Insubordination. Not something I tolerate, darlin'."

"Insubordination?" Si'ara shook her head in disbelief. "Is that the Shinra word for 'compassion'?"

"If that's what you want to think, go ahead."

"What else would you call it? He didn't want you to hurt Priscilla, so you shot him." She snapped the accusation at him angrily, but he heard the slight falter in her voice that told him she didn't believe her own words.

"Having compassion is one thing." Another cigarette found its way to his lips, and he took the time to light it before continuing. "A weakness, maybe." He said that mostly to see how she reacted, and was mildly gratified by her look of disgust. "Acting on that compassion? Yeah, I guess that for Shinra, that usually counts as insubordination."

"Punishable by death?"

"Made my point, didn't I?" He took a long drag, trying to restore the decent mood he'd been in before she started talking. "Got you off the tower, which you shouldn't've been on in the first place."

"You shot him to get me off the tower?" This time, she sounded uncertain, and there was a worried frown creasing her brow.

"Not the worst thing I've done in my life, babe. Did the pretty face and clever jokes fool you?" They'd fooled most of her friends, he knew. Cloud, Barret, that ex-Shinra pilot, Cid—they all thought he was a joke—a clown barely dressed in a Turk suit, usually drunk and chasing skirts. He'd heard the comments they made when they all happened to be in her bar, comments they knew he could hear, but didn't care. But he really thought she and the dark-haired ex-Turk she spent so much time with had known better.

"No…" She said it slowly, the frown deepening. "I know you've killed people, Reno, and…worse." She chewed on her lip for a moment, but something about her frown kept him from interrupting her train of thought. "I tend bar, you know," she added after a long minute. "People who are hurt, who've lost someone close to them, or who've been through something awful, they might not talk to their friends, but a bartender? They'll talk to a bartender, especially a woman."

For the second time in as many days, she surprised him. Looking back at the things he'd done in Edge, if she was saying what he thought she was saying, she knew enough to justify kicking him out of her bar and keeping him out, or at least treating him like dirt the way her friends did. Instead, she'd served him like any other patron. He kept his face impassive and waited to see if she had more to say.

Si'ara, however, felt she had already said too much. Costa Del Sol was a resort, and the Turks were rarely there on business. But Edge had been different. On nights when Reno had been at the bar, with or without Rude, there'd been no complaints, but there had been other times, when he'd been to the city on other business…

He'd never stopped by her bar on those nights. She had wondered whether he was avoiding it on purpose, because he was known to frequent the place, and it wasn't uncommon for someone to show up, their eyes haunted or burning with rage, looking around like they were waiting for someone. And as often as not, that person had ended the night at the bar, ordering too many drinks and telling a faltering tale of tragedy or claiming some right to vengeance.

She'd done what she could to soothe and calm them, knowing that whether they were right or wrong, they would never have the chance to avenge themselves or their loved ones. She had seen enough death in her life already—far too much for any one lifetime. There was no way she would encourage anyone else to seek theirs.

But she'd never asked Reno to leave when he _had_ come in, either, no matter how fresh in her mind the stories had been. She wasn't sure why—she'd considered it the first time, but when he'd shown up a few days later, she'd served him as thought nothing had changed. Probably because it hadn't, she supposed. Reno had been an avatar of suffering and death since the first time she'd seen him. He was a Turk. With the exception of Elena, they were all that way.

In response to the questioning look he seemed to be giving her, she just shook her head, finished with the conversation, with talking at all. She leaned her head against the window and went back to watching as the scenery slipped from her future into her past.


	11. A Phone Call, Cissnei, and Chocobos

**Author's Notes**: Read. Enjoy. Review!

* * *

Reno's PHS rang an hour or so after their conversation, and he flipped it open, noting the number with a sense of resignation. "Yo."

"I assume you haven't lost Si'ara again?" Rufus's tone was polite, as though his inquiry was based on sincere concern. When Reno didn't respond immediately, he added. "It's rather a relevant question. Would you mind answering?"

"No." Reno saw Si'ara glance over, but she turned back to the window without speaking. "Is there a problem?"

"I need to ask her some questions, in person, so make sure she doesn't disappear. There've been some attacks on the new power plant in North Corel. Accusations are being made that the fuel source is polluting the environment, making people sick or some such. The whole thing sounds appallingly familiar, and I want to see what she knows."

Reno frowned as puzzle pieces fell into place. If she was involved in terrorist activities again, she had every reason to be afraid of being taken to Midgar. And this certainly explained why Rufus had gotten so upset when he'd lost her.

"Not a problem," he reassured his boss. "We should reach Cissnei's around nightfall-that's as secure a location as you could ask for. And you can feel free to send a chopper just as soon as you can get someone to fly one out."

"Just keep in touch." Rufus disconnected without waiting for a response.

Reno flipped the PHS closed and glanced over at Si'ara.

"Cissnei's?" She didn't turn away from the window.

"Cissnei was a Turk. We'll stop there for dinner and stay the night. I'm sure you're determined to run again, but trust me, that isn't the place to do it." He met her gaze as she finally looked back at him. "Don't make this any harder than it has to be, babe," he said softly.

Si'ara looked down at the seat between them, bothered more by Reno's gentle tone than she had been by most of his angry shouting. Unwilling to respond to it directly, she latched on to something he had said. "Cissnei 'was' a Turk? I didn't think you could quit being a Turk."

"Not if you want to keep breathing." Reno turned his attention back to the road. "Cissnei's an exception."

"That all you're willing to share?" Si'ara settled back against the seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

"For now." Reno changed the subject, glancing up into the mirror to include the guards in his next comment. "We'll stop in an hour or two for lunch, then drive for the rest of the day. Anything you need to do, you'd better do when we make our stop."

Night was falling when Reno turned off of the road they'd been following so far, taking the buggy down a twisting path that led into the area surrounding the lake-filled crater over which the Ultimate Weapon had once been found. The terrain here was a combination of forest and mountain, and Si'ara wished it had been lighter-she would have liked to get a better look at the scenery.

"What's back here?" she asked curiously. She guessed that it must be this ex-Turk's home, but they'd been driving in silence for hours, so she figured a rhetorical question was better than nothing.

"Cissnei's house." Reno glanced over at her. "Doin' okay over there?"

"I ache all over, and I'm tired of sitting in a buggy, but other than that, I'm alright." She watched more trees go by in the dark. "Is it okay for me to see where this mysterious ex-Turk lives? Shouldn't you be blindfolding me or something?"

"Didn't know you were into that. I'll see what I can find, if you'd like…" Reno watched as amusement warred with indignation in her expression. Amusement finally won, and she favored him with a self-deprecating grin.

"It's pretty dark out anyway," she said. "I'm not sure I have any idea where we are, other than somewhere near the Crater Lake. It looks like the land here has recovered better than I would have expected. These trees can't be more than a few years old, but they look like they're pretty well settled."

Reno shrugged. "Babe, I have enough trouble telling a tree from a bush or flower. I have no idea what a "settled" plant looks like. You wanna talk nature stuff, talk to Cissnei about it." He returned her grin, though, and the two of them fell into a silence that lacked the tension of the earlier part of their trip.

After 10 minutes or so, Reno turned off of the road completely, and drove into a clearing that held a large house with a wraparound porch, a small barn, and a fenced-in field where several chocobos were "wark"ing quietly. After turning off the buggy's engine and indicating to the guards that they should get out, he turned to Si'ara.

"Listen, babe," he said quietly. "I know you don't want to be here, and I know you don't care for anyone associated with Shinra, but mind your manners while we're here. Don't take this out on Cissnei, alright?"

Si'ara shrugged, unwilling to agree to that before she knew what she was getting into.

"Not good enough." Reno shook his head. "Promise you'll behave. It's just for one night."

Frowning, Si'ara stared out the windshield at the chocobos. It seemed out of character for Reno to care how she treated someone, but it was obvious that the only way to get out of the buggy was to agree to his request. "Fine," she said shortly. "I promise I won't go off on this Cissnei person. Okay?"

"That'll do, yo." Reno opened his door and climbed out, then walked around to her side to open her door. "Let's get inside before it starts raining again."

Si'ara followed him up the steps to the door of the house. As they arrived, it opened to reveal a petite auburn-haired woman, who threw her arms around Reno, welcoming him with a hug before turning to Si'ara. "And you must be Si'ara." She smiled, extending a hand.

Reno watched Si'ara stiffen, then force herself to relax and return the smile as she took Cissnei's hand. The expression didn't reach her eyes, but he was willing to give her credit for the effort. "Si'ara, this is Cissnei. Cissnei, Si'ara." Perfunctory introduction handled, he slipped past them into the house.

Si'ara felt out of place as she followed Reno into the house at Cissnei's indication that she should do so. He and the guards seemed to know where they were going-she could hear the guards in one room, and followed Reno to another, noticing that he seemed to be at home in this house.

He opened the door, commented with satisfaction on the fact that the guards had already carried in his bags, and turned to Si'ara. "This is where we'll be sleeping." He moved aside enough for her to see into the bedroom. "First, though-"

Cissnei cut him off, stepping up beside them. "That's where Reno will be sleeping," she corrected calmly, "Your room is over here." She led Si'ara to a door on the other side of the hall, which opened into a smaller room than the one Reno had shown her, with no windows, but homey and nicely furnished. "There's a bathroom just down the hall. Dinner won't be ready for a bit-why don't you freshen up and take a look around. I'm sure you'd like to stretch out for a while after spending most of the day in the buggy."

Si'ara nodded, carefully avoiding Reno's gaze. "Thank you," she said politely, and she hurried down the hall to the bathroom before Reno could stop her.

Reno scowled at Cissnei. "Si'ara can sleep in my room. I don't want her slipping off in the middle of the night."

"Her room doesn't have any windows to sneak out of, and you're right across the hall. I'm sure you'll hear her if she tries to sneak out through the house." Cissnei's expression was calm, but Reno recognized the stubborn look in her eyes.

"Fine," he said ungraciously, "but only if she promises to stay in it until morning. If she leaves the room, I'll handcuff her to my bedpost."

"Nice." Cissnei grinned up at him. "You have such a way with women, Reno."

Reno ruffled her hair and walked down the hallway past her. "Ya got me pegged, doll," he agreed, unrepentant.

Si'ara washed up in the bathroom, checking the bruises on her side and wishing she had a longer skirt and long-sleeved shirt to cover them better. She wondered whether Cissnei might have anything she could borrow, but wasn't sure it would be okay to ask. Besides, the woman might be an ex-Turk, but she was wearing a blue Turk suit. Si'ara was starting to think that must be all that any Turk owned.

Once she was done, she wandered down the hallway, taking Cissnei's advice and looking around the house. The first few doors she found were open and led into bedrooms, but the one at the end of the hall opened into a cozy den. A large stone fireplace dominated one outside wall, and the other was mostly glass-two tall windows and a set of sliding glass doors. They faced out onto the field with the chocobos, and a loveseat and recliner had been positioned to face them. Next to those, a long couch faced the fireplace, and a huge white fur rug covered most of the floor between them. A lamp stood in one corner, and another hung from the ceiling, both made of amber glass and casting a warm glow over the room.

Si'ara decide she was done exploring-this room filled her with a sense of contentment, and she had no desire to leave it. She settled into the recliner and watched the chocobos, uneasy in the face of the approaching storm, as they fluffed up and settled together beneath a tree. She noted with delight that among the flock were several young chocobos, less than half-grown, still considered babies by the adults, who spread their wings over them and kept them to the center of the group protectively. It was impossible not to smile, watching them interact, and she found herself relaxing and enjoying the view.

However, when she heard the guards pass in the hall, chatting amongst themselves and mentioning dinner, she got up and slipped out of the room. She wasn't sure how upset Reno was about Cissnei having given them separate rooms, and she didn't want to make him come and find her.

She followed the sound of the guards' voices down another hallway, but she wasn't sure which door they'd gone through. Pushing open the first one she came to, she found the kitchen, where Cissnei and Reno were laughing as Reno tried to ladle stew into a bowl with one hand while pouring juice into a glass with the other. "I told you it isn't easy," Cissnei teased, taking the juice bottle before he spilled it all over the counter. "It takes practice, silly." She turned to where Si'ara was standing frozen in the doorway, feeling like an intruder. "Come on in. We could use a hand here."

There was nothing Si'ara wanted to do less than go into the kitchen and pretend she belonged there in some way. Reno and Cissnei were obviously old friends-good friends-and she had no place there with them. However, a surreptitious glance at Reno was enough for her to see that he would feel she was being rude if she refused, so she managed a smile and walked in.

"I wasn't sure if it was time to eat yet, and I didn't know where to go." She took the bottle of juice Cissnei offered her and began filling the glasses the woman indicated. Reno went back to ladling stew into bowls, and Cissnei took two long loaves of bread out of an oven and began slicing them. "You have a very nice house."

The ex-Turk smiled at her, the expression warm and genuine. "Thank you. I wanted something big enough to house any guests that might stop by, but I still wanted it to feel cozy and homey."

"It does." This time, the hesitant smile Si'ara flashed Cissnei was sincere, and Reno rewarded her with a light touch, sliding his fingertips down her back as he passed her on the way to the sink. "I watched the chocobos outside. They're all snuggled under a tree." Her gaze followed Reno briefly, then returned to the task at hand.

Cissnei laughed. "I can watch them play for hours. If the weather stays decent, we can go sit on the porch after dinner, and maybe the young ones will get up and play for a while. They like having an audience." She dumped all of the bread slices into a basket. "Well, this is everything. Can you two help carry it into the dining room?"


	12. Drinks, Intimidation, Unexpected Assault

**Author's Notes**:Reno knows just what to do with a woman who is willing and compliant. One who isn't, on the other hand, is a bit of a challenge to his mental equilibrium. And the man isn't that balanced to begin with...

* * *

"…And then the SOLDIER said to him, 'you can't wear your gun like _that_, you'll scare off all the ladies!'"

Si'ara laughed, genuinely amused, although more by the guard's manner of storytelling than by the story itself. Reno and Cissnei had slipped into a discussion of the past over dinner, accompanied by a great deal of merriment, and a couple of the guards, no more part of the conversation than Si'ara was, had struck up a casual conversation with her. She'd ignored the warning looks from Reno and accepted the introductions they had offered.

The guard talking to her now, Loran, had led the discussion, regaling her with tales of the mayhem he and the two others who'd joined in had caused in their trainee days. Grateful to be included, she'd let herself be drawn into the stories, finding some of them to be rather sophomoric, and others genuinely amusing.

When dinner was over, and Cissnei had suggested they adjourn to the porch for some fresh air and drinks before bed, Reno had pulled Si'ara aside and warned her in no uncertain terms that she was to remember her place. He'd told her that he would allow her to join them on the porch, but that once they came inside for bed, she would need to go to her room and stay there until morning. If she wasn't willing to agree to that, then separate bedrooms were out of the question.

Both embarrassed by his treatment of her and furious over it, she'd hissed that she assumed separate bedrooms would be more convenient for him anyway. He hadn't pretended to misunderstand her, but had simply narrowed his eyes and asked her whether she thought she could do as she was told. With an angry shrug, she'd agreed to his terms.

That exchange had left her in no mood to enjoy the rest of the evening, but Loran had apparently decided that she should do so. When Reno stayed by Cissnei after she poured him a drink, Loran had joined Si'ara by the railing where she was watching the chocobos, calling the other two friendly guards, Toby and Grey, over as well. Mindful of Reno's temper, the three of them kept a distance between themselves and her, but they chatted amiably and made her feel less excluded.

As Loran finished his story, Grey, who had wandered off, returned with a drink for Si'ara. She took it with a smile, although she had no intention of drinking it, and turned back to watch the chocobos, leaning on the rail a few feet from Toby while Loran sat on it to her left. So far, the birds were still bunched together under the tree, but a couple of the youngsters had started sticking their heads out to watch the gathering on the porch.

As Si'ara pointed out another curious head popping up on the far side of the group, the glass was plucked from her hand. Turning with a scowl, she found herself face-to-chest with Reno, and had to tip her head back to look up at him.

"You don't need to be drinking, yo." He started to turn away, and she grabbed his arm.

Immediately, two of the guards at the far end of the porch put their hands on their guns. She'd realized by their blatant refusal to join in the conversation at the dinner table that they didn't care for her, although she wasn't sure why. Before they could do anything more, however, Reno shook her hand off and spun on his heel to face her, making it quite clear that he would handle this himself, in case there was actually any doubt.

"I think I'm old enough to decide if I want a drink, Turk." She kept her voice low-it was impossible to avoid being the centre of attention at this point, but she had no desire to share the conversation with everyone.

"Maybe so, babe, but you're in my custody now, and I'm telling you you won't be drinking." He'd at least answered at the same volume, but it didn't matter-he was treating her like a child, as if the situation wasn't hard enough for her as it was.

She curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms, frustrated by the situation that made it impossible for her to fight back when he behaved like this. "I'm surprised, really." Her eyes smoldered with suppressed wrath. "Plying women with drinks to make them compliant seems to be a habit of yours."

Reno's lips curved in a mocking grin. "Only when I want them, babe. Nothing you need to worry about." And he'd turned, dismissing her from his attentions, and walked back to Cissnei, pausing to drop a light kiss on her forehead before setting Si'ara's drink on the railing.

For a moment, all Si'ara could hear was her own blood pounding through her veins. She reached blindly for the handle of the door leading into the house, turning it mechanically, needing desperately to be somewhere other than here.

"Where ya goin', doll?" Reno drawled, apparently having no intention of letting her escape without further conflict.

"I…I have a headache." She stared at the door, unwilling to face the others. "I'm going to go to bed."

"You two go with her, wait in the hall 'til I come in." The two guards who had gone for their weapons nodded sharply and headed toward her, so she moved into the house quickly, having no wish to remain in their presence. As she passed the bathroom, she slipped inside, locking the door in case they tried to follow her. She washed up with cold water, trying to put out the flames burning in her cheeks, then decided that a shower would help her relax.

The warm water did a lot to soothe her still-aching muscles, but nothing to cool her rage. The situation she was in was intolerable-she hated not being in control, and she had no desire to go talk to Rufus Shinra in Midgar. But if Reno had at least treated her with a modicum of respect, like an equal instead of a child, she could have perhaps accepted it for the moment. Instead, she was filled with impotent fury, unable to do anything to alleviate her problems, but equally unable to accept the current state of affairs.

Cleaner and somewhat refreshed, but still angry, she unlocked the door and went back out into the hallway. Both guards were waiting, but neither spoke to her or acknowledged her presence-they just followed her silently to her room. Inside, she stood in the middle of the floor, too agitated to sleep, but unable to leave the room now that she'd said she was going to bed.

A pile of clothes on the dresser caught her attention, providing a momentary distraction from her unhappy thoughts. Curious, she went over to them and found a note laying on top, written in an open flowing script that perfectly matched the auburn-haired ex-Turk.

_Si'ara,_

_I know that it would never occur to Reno that you might like to have something to wear besides the clothes in which you were abducted. I suspect that by now you've decided Turks have nothing but suits in their wardrobes, but that isn't actually the case. I put together a few outfits I think you might like-there is a small valise in the bottom drawer that should hold any of them you are willing to accept. Please do so with no hesitation-although I have other clothes in my closet, I do stick to the suits more often than not, and these outfits are too nice to waste._

_Cissnei_

Si'ara stared at the clothes for a minute, then picked up the top piece. It was a long-sleeved form-fitting black shirt that might have reached Cissnei's waist, but which would leave a couple inches of Si'ara's midriff exposed. Beneath it was a pair of black jeans with a silver chain belt. They would be short on Si'ara, and she guessed they would hug her curves more closely than Cissnei's, but she rather liked them. The other outfits were similar-clothes that would be a little loose or long on Cissnei, or that would look fine on Si'ara in spite of her being taller than the petite woman. And the colors had been chosen carefully-predominantly black and silver, with some shades of violet and blue. All of it seemed to have been chosen to match her hair and eyes, and her taste as well. She couldn't deny that Cissnei had done a good job choosing things she would like.

She wasn't sure about taking them, but selected a few outfits anyway, and packed them in the small black bag she found in the bottom drawer. The first outfit she set in the top drawer in case she wanted to wear it in the morning-although it would leave part of her midriff exposed, it covered more than any of the other outfits, so most of her bruises wouldn't be visible.

Calmer now that she'd found something to occupy her for a while, she went over to the bed and dropped onto it, feet on the floor, elbows on her thighs, chin cradled in her hands. As she stared at the hardwood floor, watching patterns appear in the shaded whorls and swirls, footsteps sounded outside the door. She straightened, unsurprised, as Reno threw it open and walked in, flipping it shut behind him.

"Something you wanted, Turk?" She didn't look at him, but stared at the wall to his right, clenching her jaw, but schooling her expression into one of bored disinterest.

"Yeah." He walked halfway across the room and stopped, surveying it briefly. "I wanna know what the hell you were throwing a fit about out there. You always such a baby when someone tells you you can't do something?"

"You know what? I'm an _adult_. I'm actually not used to people telling me what I can and can't do. Not the kind of thing you're used to in a woman, but that's the way some of us are."

"Oh, yeah?" A contemptuous smile twisted his lips. "And is being an _adult_ why you decided to over-react like that and make a scene instead of behaving yourself like you said you would?"

"I wasn't overreacting or making a scene," Si'ara snapped. "I was ready for bed. That's all. You're the one making a big deal about it." She glared at him and folded her arms across her chest. "Now will you get out of my room?"

Reno turned away without a word. Assuming that he was going to comply, she relaxed until she heard him lock the door instead. "It isn't your room, babe," he reminded her softly, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. "It's the room you're staying in. That's all. And you can't make me leave, can you?"

Her heart pounded as he crossed the room toward her, his movements predatory, eyes cold and hard. "Cissnei said…" She swallowed, and forced herself not to move or show signs of panic. "She said we had separate rooms…"

"I have a room of my own, yeah, if I wanna use it." Reno, experienced in the art of intimidation, had reached the side of the bed, and stood directly in front of Si'ara, looking down at her. "But Cissnei won't interfere, if that's what you're hoping."

Si'ara looked toward the foot of the bed, unwilling to stare at Reno's stomach, crane her neck to look up at him, or back away. "I'm tired. I want to go to sleep." She could smell whiskey and cigarettes, spice and cologne, and found herself waging the primal battle between fight and flight. Unfortunately, she was locked in a room with someone she knew could probably take her in a fight. That seriously limited both options.

"Sorry to hear that, babe." Reno's fingers slid through her hair. "Not quite what I had in mind." He stroked her hair gently, looking down at her, surprised that she hadn't moved away or made any attempt to fight him. "You started something back in Junon that I'd like to finish."

A faint flush colored Si'ara's cheeks, and she ducked her head, moving out from under his hand. "I'm not one of your cheap one-night stands, Turk." She slid to the side and stood quickly, feeling less trapped now that he wasn't looming over her.

"Coulda fooled me." His eyes glittered with mockery, and a smirk curled his lips. "But I guess that was what you were going for, wasn't it?"

"Yeah." She moved to the other side of the room. "You were pretty easy, too. But then, you're known for that." This was deteriorating quickly, but she didn't see any way to steer the conversation back to safer ground without backing down, and she wasn't willing to do that.

"Sure am." He said it without any hesitation, following her and putting his hands on the wall on either side of her. "Didn't expect you to be that way, though-that was a nice surprise."

"You think I won't hit you again if you try anything, or are you just in the mood for a fight?" She put one hand on his chest to keep at least some distance between them. "Or is this where you go for your mag-rod and knock me out?"

"Not a chance, sweetheart. You won't want to miss this." He hooked a finger under her chin and brushed his thumb lightly over her lips. "Ya know," he said softly, "that kiss didn't feel like it was just step one in an escape plan. And I don't think you're that good an actor."

"Well, that's all it was," she snapped, staring at her own hand splayed across his chest and trying to convince herself that she was telling the truth. "Now, would you please get out of the room I'm supposed to be sleeping in?"

Reno scowled, her refusal to admit that the kiss had been anything more than a clever way to fool him into dropping his guard making him angrier than he had expected. With an irritated motion, he swatted her arm out of his way, grabbed both of her wrists, and pulled them over her head, pinning them to the wall. "News flash, babe. You wanna slut it up like that as a distraction technique, you're welcome to. But your actions have consequences, whether you like it or not." He pulled her away from the wall, twisting her hands up behind her back as he did so and pinning her against him.

Si'ara was caught off guard by his sudden attack, having forgotten how quickly he shifted from lazy inaction to combat. She cried out as pain shot through her arm and her side when he pulled her against him, and he took immediate advantage, closing his mouth over hers.

This assault had little in common with the kiss she remembered-this time Reno showed no concern for her comfort or pleasure. He invaded her mouth ruthlessly, used the kiss to dominate her, pushing her tongue aside with his own, biting her lips when she tried to force them closed. When she struggled, he tightened his grip on her, heedless of her repeated cry of pain, and slid his free hand under her shirt, either not remembering the bruises covering her side or not caring.

Nothing had prepared Si'ara for this kind of treatment from Reno. Whatever she had thought of him in the past, she had always assumed that his partners were willing and eager, no matter what she might accuse him of in anger. It had occurred to her when she first found herself in his custody that he might try to get her into bed, but she realized now that she had always assumed he would back off if she made it clear that she wasn't interested. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd said or done to prompt this attack, and she didn't know how to stop it.

Reno felt Si'ara try to twist away when he ran his hand up her side, and heard her strangled whimper. He froze, then took his hand from her side, placing two fingers over her mouth as he straightened, staring past her at the wall. He forced himself to be still, to let his heartbeat slow as he loosened his grip on her wrists, anger and lust frustrated by the self-control that had kept him alive for over a decade as one of Shinra's Turks.

Si'ara felt Reno tense when she shied away from his touch, and stopped struggling as he drew back from her slightly, laying two fingers across her lips to keep her quiet. She stared at his chest as he lowered her arms, releasing her carefully. As soon as he let go, she stepped backwards, wrapping her arms around herself and watching in silence as he turned without speaking and left the room. Only after she heard the door latch did she sink to the floor, leaning against the wall with her arms around her knees, and cry, her body shaking with silent sobs, tears slipping down her cheeks to splash on the hard wood floor.


	13. Remorse, Conversation, and Bad Dreams

**Author's Notes**: **WARNING**: Implied rape of a young Reno in the italicized dream sequence.

* * *

Cissnei found Reno sitting on the back porch, and removed the bottle of whiskey from his hand, replacing it with a cup of hot tea as she sat down on a low table near him.

"Hey! 'M half-sober already here," he protested irritably, although he accepted the substitution. "Was tryin' ta fix that, see?" He didn't acknowledge her otherwise, staring out over the trees at the distant flashes of lightning, but obviously seeing nothing beyond the thoughts running through his own mind.

"Si'ara seemed upset when she went inside." Although much younger than most of the Turks she had worked with, Cissnei's compassion and empathy had made her a natural confidante, and she couldn't leave someone in pain if she thought she could help. "Is everything okay?"

Silence reigned for several breaths, broken only by the distant sound of thunder. When Reno finally spoke, Cissnei had to lean forward to hear the softly spoken words. "I messed up, Cissnei." His expression didn't change, and he didn't move, blue-grey eyes still staring out at nothing. "An' I don't think I can fix it."

The auburn-haired woman went over what little she knew of the situation in her mind. She recognized jealousy when she saw it, and had watched as Si'ara tried to push it away every time Cissnei had hugged Reno or when they shared a laugh or memory over dinner. It was clear to her that the bartender's interest in Reno was more than casual, but she was pretty sure the woman was denying that even to herself.

And Reno was no better. His gaze had slipped to Si'ara any time she had interacted with the guards in any way, but she was pretty sure that if she asked him, he would just say that he didn't want her getting friendly with them in case she took advantage of a lapse in judgment and made another attempt at fleeing.

Reno's actions on the porch after dinner had been deliberately provocative. It wasn't at all unlike him to flirt, but the light kiss he'd placed on Cissnei's forehead had been solely for Si'ara's benefit, retribution for whatever she had said when he'd taken her drink away. That Si'ara had claimed a headache and left was no surprise to the former Turk. But she wasn't sure what could have happened since then to have Reno as upset as this.

"Well, it wasn't very nice of you to kiss me just to hurt her." There was the faintest trace of accusation in Cissnei's voice, but Reno shook his head, finally focusing on the here-and-now.

"Yeah, that was cheap," he admitted with a half-smirk, "but she pi-ticked me off." Cissnei didn't approve of swearing, and Reno tried to humor her, at least here in her own home. "She does that a lot. But that's not it." He sobered visibly and folded both hands around the cup of tea, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to take a sip, then stared off into space again.

After several moments passed in silence, Cissnei gave up waiting. "So what happened?"

Reno sighed, then straightened and set the tea cup down on the table. "I went to her room, and I yelled at her," he said quietly. "And she told me to leave, and I told her I didn't have to. Instead, I locked the door, and-" He broke off and shook his head angrily. "Fuck, Cissnei, she won't back down from a damned fight! If she would just give up and admit she's outmatched…" He shoved himself out of the chair and walked to the other end of the porch and back, pacing restlessly. "But she won't. She thinks she can handle anything-" He stopped abruptly and turned his back to Cissnei, leaning on the railing with both arms straight, tense and upset. "So I proved to her that she can't."

Cissnei frowned. She didn't need details, and wasn't about to ask for them. They didn't matter, anyway. Whatever exactly had happened, it had obviously been traumatic, almost certainly for both of them. But she was pretty sure that Si'ara had come off worse than Reno. He wasn't the type to feel guilty over nothing-when she considered some of the things she knew he _hadn't_ shown any remorse for, she had to worry about the bartender's current state of mind.

"Reno," she started carefully, but he spun around, hushed her with a gesture. She heard a door shut inside the house, and soft footsteps approaching slowly. They stopped outside the den, and that door opened, then closed with a quiet click. "Let me talk to her," Cissnei murmured. "Go to bed-there's nothing you can do right now that would help."

Reno scowled, glaring at the door to the house. "She was supposed to stay in her bedroom," he snapped, keeping his voice as quiet as hers had been. "Those were the conditions for having separate rooms."

Cissnei moved to stand between the angry red-head and the door. "You're being an ass, Reno," she pointed out mildly. "She snuck into the den, not out of the house."

Stormy blue eyes met hers, initially contentious, then calming slightly. "Yeah. Just-" He sighed and ran a hand distractedly through his hair. "Look, I went too far, and I know it, but she's still in my custody, and it's my job to get her to Midgar. If you can calm her down, that's great, but don't let her forget that." He moved past her and into the house, silent as a shadow.

Cissnei went to the kitchen first, pouring out the tea Reno had hardly touched and setting the whiskey on the counter. She was careful to make some noise as she walked down the hall to the den, but when she pushed the door open, she found Si'ara, dressed in the nightgown she'd left for her, curled up in the recliner, having apparently cried herself to sleep. Cissnei slipped out of the room, leaving the door open, and went down to the one she'd given to her guest for the night. She was relieved to find that the bed itself was still neatly made, and folded the covers back, then returned to the den. As she was trying to decide whether she could lift the bartender to carry her to her bed, a hand settled lightly on her shoulder. She stepped aside, glancing up at Reno questioningly.

He didn't answer, just gathered Si'ara in his arms and carried her down the hall, laying her in the bed and pulling the covers over her. Cissnei waited in the hall, watching him, until he pulled the door shut. He leaned against the wall, fishing a cigarette out of a pocket somewhere and lighting it, ignoring her disapproving look. "We'll leave after breakfast." He glanced at Si'ara's door, then walked past Cissnei to his own room, leaving her alone in the hall.

Cissnei frowned. Reno was a colleague and a good friend, but this was her house. Whether he liked it or not, she intended to talk to Si'ara before her guests continued their journey.

"_Filthy little street rat!" A half-brick landed yards behind the scrawny red-head as he fled the shopkeeper's wrath, and he couldn't resist the temptation to turn and flip the man off before disappearing down a side-street. He'd managed to pocket two boxes of heat pellets, an item that sold for a premium down here in the slums where no light ever warmed the pavement and the winter winds whistled along the walls, worming their way through every crack and cranny. The shopkeeper was understandably upset, but he shoulda watched his wares better if he wanted to keep them._

_Satisfied that he was far enough away to escape pursuit, the thief squeezed himself into a corner between a trash bin and a piece of a concrete wall discarded from the gleaming city above. He took one pellet from each box and carefully worked it into the heel of his shoe, under the sole where it should escape detection. Old Maggie'd probably be too drunk to count them, and even if she did, he could always claim they must've been short when he'd grabbed them. If she searched him, she'd only do a half-ass job, anyway. The real danger would be a couple of the older boys in her little street-rat pack. If they knew he had them, they'd feel it was their right to take them away._

_As it was, he'd be in for a beating. The older boys were clumsy and slow, and jealous of the attention and occasional treats Reno got for lifting valuable items. It wasn't uncommon for them to lay in wait for him at night, to try to take his ill-gotten gains before he could get to Maggie, and claim the credit for themselves. And Maggie'd give it to them, too-she didn't care where something came from, as long as she could sell it. The only time she'd step in was when she thought they might really mess Reno up-he was her best meal ticket, and she wasn't gonna lose him to some underage thugs._

_But it was still early today-he oughta be back to the warren of discarded sewer pipes the gang called home before anyone else got there. Just in case, he took his own secret route-climbing over rooftops and pieces of fallen masonry, shimmying along a rusty pipe that ran down one side of the wall separating this sector from the next, and finally dropping to the ground only a dew dozen yards from the entrance to their makeshift shelter._

_From the sound of things, even Maggie was out. The place wasn't usually this quiet, and Reno paused for a moment, wondering if something was wrong. But the few feral cats and dogs that usually hung around, hoping to snatch a few scraps from their human counterparts, were sleeping under a sheet of tin or slinking around in their typical way, so he headed in._

_Maggie's "room," a spot where three pipes intersected, roofed over with a rusty piece of corrugated metal and furnished with seats pulled out of a wrecked train car, was empty, as he'd expected. But something was wrong-her row of liquor bottles, which the boys were forbidden to touch under penalty of a whipping they'd not soon forget, were scattered around the floor, as empty as the room in which they lay._

_Reno started to back out of the room, his senses sharpening like those of a hunted animal. There was someone coming up the tunnel behind him, and the sense of danger increased. He moved out into the room, and realized that he was cornered as four of the older boys swaggered in from various directions. _

"_Ol' Maggie caught a shiv, Red," the oldest informed him with a twisted grin, his voice slightly slurred. "She ain't here no more ta keep ya safe."_

"_Don't need 'er." He was outnumbered, but they were slow at the best of times, and it looked like they'd been drinking. He slid his hands in his pockets, curling his fingers around the straight razors that were his weapon of choice. "Pile'a chocobo dung like yourself ain't really a threat. Trip over your own feet if ya try ta run, yo." He smirked, and waited for the expected attack. _

"_Fucking brat. Bring 'im here." The older boy dropped onto one of the train seats, and the other three moved in toward Reno, grinning in anticipation of whatever show their ringleader had planned._

"_Ain't in the mood ta play yer stupid games, Brighta." Reno kept all three of his attackers in sight, trying to move so his back was to a wall. Stupid as they were, they'd all grown up on the streets, and they'd been fighting as long as they could remember. He was fast, but they were stronger, and he was outnumbered._

"_Heh." There was something disturbing in the boy's smug, slurred tone. "Gonna play whatever games I wantcha to, Red. An' I got lotsa ideas for you…"_

_Tired of waiting for the other boys to close in, Reno rushed the closest, dropping under his first swing to slash him across the face and stomach, then ducking past him as he screamed and bent over double. Spotting one of the liquor bottles a foot or two away, he grabbed it, smashed it on the floor, and threw it at the only boy between him and one of the tunnels. As reflexes took over and his attacker raised his arms to fend of the bottle, he darted past him into the concrete pipe, and straight into a wall of muscle._

"_Jus' yer dumb luck, Red." Brighta laughed as Reno spun around, looking for another escape route. "Bring 'im here, Tank." _

_Fingers like slabs of meat wrapped around Reno's arms, squeezing until his hands went numb and the razors dropped harmlessly to the ground. Tank was Maggie's personal guard-big, slow, and dumb, he followed Maggie's orders as long as she kept them simple. Actually an adult of indeterminate age, he had reverted to a child's mentality after a metal beam had fallen from one of the ramshackle structures littering the slums, hitting him in the head and knocking him unconscious. Maggie'd nursed him back to health in case he turned out to be grateful, and had seen the immediate value in him when she'd discovered his mental deficiency. _

_Unfortunately, next to Maggie, Brighta was his favorite person in the gang. Reno guessed that it was probably because they had about the same intellect, but that wasn't much comfort right now. Tank would do whatever Brighta told him to, and that meant bad news for Reno._

_Since his arms were held, Reno used his feet instead, twisting and kicking at Tank and at anyone who came near. Brighta just kept grinning, watching as the slender red-head thrashed helplessly in the older man's arms. Only when they reached the seat next to the one he was on did he finally stand, waiting until they were close enough, then punching Reno hard in the gut. As Tank released him, he swung again, and the boy on Reno's left kicked him in the side. Something hit his head from behind, and his surroundings blurred, then faded to darkness._

_He awoke what was probably a short time later, judging from the still-bleeding gashes on his head. To his horror, he was naked, straddling Brighta's lap with his hands tied behind his back. As he began to thrash weakly, Brighta grinned, fisting his hand in Reno's hair and pulling the younger boy's face down close to his._

"_Gonna teach you some new games now, Red," he purred, his free hand gliding over blood-slicked flesh-_

Reno woke abruptly, tearing his way out of the sickening dream and rolling up into a sitting position, staring at the floor while his heart-rate and breathing slowed from those of a panicked child to something more closely resembling normal. Muttering a curse, he ran his fingers through sleep-rumpled hair, then pushed himself to his feet. At this point, he wanted to get back on the road as soon as possible-once again, one night in the same place as Si'ara made him want to move on and forget all that had passed between them. Sweet Shiva, why did she have to be so difficult?


	14. Morning, Girl Talk, Reconciliation

**Author's notes**: None. Just read and enjoy

* * *

Cissnei, waiting in the den, heard Reno go into the bathroom, and went down to Si'ara's room. She tapped on the door lightly, and smiled when it was opened a few moments later. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Si'ara had sat on the floor and cried after Reno left the night before, then had mechanically pushed herself to her feet and changed into the nightgown Cissnei had left. Several minutes spent staring at the bed had been enough—she knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep in this room. So she'd curled up in the corner, trying to work out a feasible plan for escaping once she and her captors were back on the road.

Every line of thought, however, circled somehow back around to the evening's most recent events. She knew Reno had been angry over her refusal to admit that the kiss in Junon had meant anything to her, but she didn't know why. He was the one who had said she had every reason to hate him…

But she didn't hate him. Hadn't hated him. And for a moment, she'd thought that maybe the fact that he was so worked up over one little kiss meant that there was actually something besides whiskey-flavoured ice in that heart of his…

But she'd been in a fighting mood, angry at the way he'd treated her, angry at herself for feeling anything for the man who had kicked her ass to drop the Sector 7 plate on her home and her friends, angry about the kiss that should never have happened, not the way it did… And before she'd had a chance to say or do anything to take the edge off of her refusal to admit anything of her true feelings, he'd lashed out, catching her off guard and shattering any illusions she'd had about what kind of person Reno the Turk was.

Hot tears had burned their way down her cheeks as she remembered, not the rough and unwelcome kiss, but the careful way he'd held himself when he'd stopped so suddenly, the light touch of his fingers on her lips, the way his hand had trembled slightly against her wrist…

Seeking guidance, or at least some form of peace, she'd slipped out of the room as quietly as she could, and had gone to the den, where she'd been able to relax so easily earlier in the evening. There, she'd curled up in the large recliner and cried some more, the tears bringing exhaustion and the room a sense of safety, the two combining to lull her gradually to sleep.

She wasn't sure how she'd gotten back to this room, but she had slept soundly for several hours, worn out from the emotional rollercoaster ride she'd been on, and had woken up early. She'd dressed in her own clothes and stayed in her room, unwilling to face anyone yet. However, the light tap she heard now at the door could only belong to her hostess. Mindful of her manners, whatever Reno might think, she opened the door, then stepped aside to let the woman in.

Cissnei shook her head. "Let's go out to the barn. The chocobos all went inside for the night, so you can come meet some of the babies." She slipped past Si'ara to the dresser and pulled the black bag out of the bottom drawer. "I'll have one of the guards stick this in the buggy, if it has everything you wanted?"

"I don't really need anything…" Si'ara glanced at the top dresser drawer without meaning to.

"Take it." Cissnei smiled. "You can always send it back with Reno if it doesn't suit you."

In the face of such a sensible plan, Si'ara could hardly object. She followed the former Turk down the hall, waited while she stuck her head through a door to speak to one of the guards, then trailed along behind her as she went out onto the porch.

A light rain was falling, occasionally sheeting across the field in a gust of wind, but nothing close to the level of the other night's storm. They hurried across to the barn, and Si'ara burst into delighted laughter as half a dozen chocobo chick heads popped up simultaneously, accompanied by a chorus of curious "warks." The young birds bounded to their feet and rushed up to the two women, flapping stubby little wings in excitement.

Cissnei smiled at Si'ara's response, relieved to see the clouds lift from the younger woman's face. "Adorable, aren't they?

"Yes." Si'ara reached down hesitantly, and laughed again as a chick stuck its face in her hand, searching for food. "How old are they?"

" A few months." Cissnei pulled down a sheaf of greens and began tossing handfuls into buckets, handing a few to Si'ara. "But that's not what I brought you out here to talk about." She watched out of the corner of her eye as Si'ara fed the young chocobos, a shadow slipping back into place around her.

"Well, there's not much I can do about going back to Midgar at this point." The silver-haired woman kept her voice light and casual, but couldn't fool the more experienced Turk.

"Just because Reno does what he's told to do doesn't mean that he enjoys it." The older chocobos had joined the breakfast group, keeping the women separated, making it easier to discuss such a sensitive matter.

"He does it." This time Si'ara's voice was flat, condemning Reno with its lack of emotion.

"Yes." Cissnei paused, trying to figure out how to explain how a Turk thought to someone who wasn't a Turk. "But it isn't as simple as you think it is. He does it because he believes in his heart that it's the right thing to do."

Si'ara scoffed before she could stop herself, and shook her head, laughing bitterly. "The right thing to do? I know that you know what kinds of things Reno's done. How can you even say that as though you mean it?"

"I didn't say that it _is_ the right thing to do. I said that he believes it is." Cissnei pushed her way through the crowd of feathers and warm bodies to Si'ara's side. "He trusts the people he works for to make the judgment calls for him. And believe it or not, they've been right far more often than wrong."

"Turks don't ever think for themselves?" Instead of looking at Cissnei, Si'ara buried her fingers in a chocobo's feather's, scratching it lightly while it made a soft warbling sound.

"Only the ex-Turks?" Cissnei waved that thought away before it even registered and frowned slightly. "Are you trying to insult me, or is that just the way it sounds?" For the first time since Si'ara had arrived here, her hostess sounded like a Turk, a dangerous edge to her voice reminding the bartender just who she was speaking to.

"I- No, I'm sorry." Silence reigned for a few minutes, then she sighed. "I never thought… Look, this is stupid. I forgot what Reno is, that's all. I thought he was… I don't know."

"I think you had a pretty good idea what he was to you, and what you were to him." Cissnei handed over a few more greens, and fed a few to the knee-high chocobo chicks herself. "Someone with whom you've shared experiences that most people never have-danger, tragedy, triumph. An enemy and an ally. Maybe not a friend, but one of a handful of people who understands what you've been through and who has seen the things you've seen."

Si'ara was silent, her brow furrowed in a frown as she continued to stroke the chocobo mother, absently allowing it to pluck greens from her hand. Cissnei sighed.

"Hate him if you want to-" she started.

Si'ara shook her head immediately, glancing at Cissnei, that one look filled with betrayal and hurt. "That's not the way it is. _I _don't hate _him_."

"You think he hates you?"

The only response was a shrug.

"Because of last night, or because he's taking you to Midgar?" She frowned as she caught the way Si'ara flinched when she mentioned the previous night, but the silver-haired martial artist recovered quickly.

"He doesn't care what's going to happen to me when I get to Midgar. He knows Rufus. If Rufus just wanted to talk, he could have called, or even sent someone to invite me to Midgar, instead of having me abducted like this."

"I don't think Reno is happy about that part. But he has to trust Rufus and Tseng to have valid reasons for doing the things they do, even if it seems to cause someone harm as an immediate result."

"And that makes it okay?"

Cissnei made an exasperated sound. "Look, let me put it to you this way. You said that you don't hate Reno, right?" Si'ara nodded. "If Rufus Shinra was standing in the centre of Edge, setting a bomb to blow up the city, and Reno stood between you and him, would you let Rufus blow up the city just so you didn't have to hurt Reno to get to him?"

Si'ara scowled at Cissnei, but she saw a glimmer of understanding in the former terrorist's eyes. "It's not the same thing."

"It is." Cissnei smiled gently. "And you know it. It's just a matter of degree." She picked up one of the chicks and handed it to Si'ara, who turned from the mother to accept it reflexively. "Last night is a different matter-the two of you will need to work that out on your own. But you'll only make that harder if you confuse his job with his feelings." She realized that Si'ara was likely to assume that Reno had talked to her under far different circumstances than those that had occurred, so she added, "It's silly-he's older than me, but I think of him as a younger brother. He acts so impulsively, and sometimes he doesn't know how to deal with the consequences."

Si'ara laughed ruefully. "Vincent says the same of me," she admitted. "He says that sometimes he despairs of my ever learning to think before I act." She let the tiny chocobo nuzzle her cheek as she added softly, "I thought maybe you and Reno…"

The flush that colored Si'ara's cheeks was visible even with the improvised chocobo shield to protect her, but Cissnei pretended not to notice. "No. I think that would ruin our friendship. One-time flings are one thing, and we haven't even done that, but for a true relationship of any kind, Reno needs someone who can stand up to him. I can do it when I have to, but I don't have the strength to keep it up long-term." She considered that for a minute. "I think that's because I don't have the motivation. He's a friend, and as I said, much like a brother, but that's plenty for me."

Si'ara didn't answer, and after a few minutes of companionable silence and contented chocobo "wark"s, Cissnei suggested they return to the house. Si'ara consented and they headed that way, but at the door to the barn, she froze suddenly, dropping her gaze and curling her hands into fists.

Cissnei moved past her casually, intercepting the approaching Reno with a skill born of years of practice. "Good morning," she called easily. "I had Si'ara come out and help me feed the chocobos." Now within whispering range of the red-head, and far enough away that she was confident Si'ara wouldn't hear, she added sharply, "Talk to her if you can do it civilly, but if you have to upset her, wait until after you leave."

Reno stopped where he was, eyes narrowing slightly, lips compressed into a thin line as he regarded the woman in the doorway to the barn. Calm as he seemed to be, to someone who knew him well, everything aspect of his pose radiated controlled anger, from the tilt of his head to the way his hands hung loosely at his side. He didn't answer Cissnei, instead keeping all of his attention focused on his uncooperative captive. The former Turk didn't stop to see what he would do, but headed on into the house, hoping he would listen to reason this time.

Si'ara wasn't sure what to do-she had been unable to make herself follow Cissnei when the ex-Turk had moved past her to the house, and now she was trapped out here with an obviously angry Reno between her and the closest thing to safety that she had at the moment. She tensed as he started toward her, her heart-rate quickening as unwelcome memories of the previous night flooded back in a rush.

Reno saw the color rush to Si'ara's cheeks as her breathing quickened and she stared at a fixed point on the ground between them. Scowling, he started toward her once more, determined to remind her that after the way she had acted, she should have expected nothing different than what she'd gotten. As he came within a few yards of her, however, she raised her head, defiant violet eyes meeting his, her breathing slowing as she raised her fists, shifting her weight to a more defensive position.

Oddly, whereas her immediate reaction had brought home to him a faint sense of guilt, spurring him to anger, this change to a more confrontational stance relaxed him, put them on more familiar ground. Rather than meet her head-on, he veered off slightly and stopped to lean in the doorway, staring into the barn at the chaos of chocobos milling about within, leaving her a free path back to the house.

Si'ara lowered her hands, puzzled by Reno's behaviour. She'd been sure that he meant to yell at her, order her back to the house, remind her of her place as his captive. Instead, he slouched against the doorframe, staring into the barn, and took out one of his ever-present cigarettes, tucking it between his lips and lighting it, not speaking to her, but not displaying the anger she'd sensed in him earlier, either.

"I… Cissnei asked me to come out and see the chocobos." She knew Cissnei had told him as much already, but she wasn't sure what else to say to him at this point.

"Yeah? So I heard." He blew a trio of smoke rings at an approaching bird, which "wark"ed indignantly and backed away. "Can't see the attraction myself, but Cissnei likes the wretched things." He slanted a glance at her and found her watching the house, clearly unsure how she should respond at this point. "You should go in and eat. We'll leave after breakfast."

"She gave me a couple of outfits." The tension she'd been feeling was draining away slowly. "Do I have time to shower and change?"

Reno turned to look at her directly at last, expression carefully neutral. "Make it quick. I want to get on the road as soon as we can."

Si'ara looked out across the field for a moment, then back, meeting those aqua eyes with a steady gaze. "At this point, I'd have to say the feeling is mutual."

Reno nodded, then pushed himself off of the doorframe, gesturing for her to head back to the house and falling into step beside her. "It won't happen again, babe," he said quietly, reaching out and briefly touching her arm with the back of his hand before raising the cigarette to his lips for another drag. "Go eat and get washed up. I need to make some arrangements before we head out, but I plan on leaving here in the next hour or so."

Si'ara nodded and went into the house, heading to the kitchen for some breakfast.


	15. Memories, Arrest, and a Low Blow

Author's Notes: I didn't really edit this much, so feel free to point out any flaws-I'll accept any criticism as my fault for being careless. (I feel like I left in a dangling participle at one point, but I couldn't find a way to re-word the sentence to omit it. Hopefully you'll never even notice...) Aside from that, feedback is always welcome, and might help keep me on track. You never know...

(I'm trying to go through and fix the hyphen vs dash issue this site seems to have. I keep forgetting that it replaces my dashes with hyphens, which drives me nuts when I try to read it.)

* * *

Cissnei stood on the front porch with Reno, waiting for Si'ara to finish changing and join them. The two guards Reno had decided to keep with them were already in the buggy-the three who had been so friendly with Si'ara were to remain at Cissnei's until they received orders from Midgar. Although Cissnei knew it would make the trip less pleasant for Si'ara-the remaining guards obviously held her in distaste for some reason-she understood the necessity. The young woman was bound to make another attempt at fleeing, and it was Reno's job to make success as unlikely an outcome of that attempt as possible.

"I figure we'll head for Fort Condor, but it better not take that long for Rufus to get a chopper out to us. I don't think I can take that much time with her." The redhead leaned his lanky frame against one of the stone columns supporting the roof of the porch and exhaled slowly, watching as the increasing winds caught the tendrils of smoke and whipped them away. "She wears me out, and not in the way I'd like, yo."

"She feels the same way about you, you know." Not willing to let him misunderstand, the petite woman added, "all of it, not just the frustration."

Reno shook his head, slanting a cynical glance at the former Turk. "You're guessing that after one night, Ciss. I've known her for years, and trust me, that's not the way it is."

"I think you're letting what you think you know blind you to what's really there. You should talk to her." Cissnei stared off across the chocobo field, and murmured, "You lead such dangerous lives, both of you." Her gaze fixed on something in the distant past, she added softly, "It's a tragedy to have someone you care for die without ever knowing how you feel."

Reno shoved lazily off of the column and leaned on the railing next to her, finishing his cigarette in one long, slow drag. He exhaled slowly, then straightened. Looking down at her, he nodded an acknowledgment of her words. "But, babe, let's not forget my part in these tragedies, hmm? I cause them-I don't get caught up in them." He flicked the cigarette butt out onto the stony drive, and turned cool aqua eyes toward the house, ready to go looking for his captive.

The front door opened just as he started toward it, and Si'ara stepped out, turning to close it behind her. Cissnei bit back a gasp, a painful sense of familiarity catching her off guard as the woman's long silver hair swept around her slender, black-clad form.

Reno's reaction was quite different-thin lips curled in an appreciative grin as he noted how the tight jeans and form-fitting shirt hugged her curves. "Took you long enough," he griped-out of habit, but without any actual rancor. "Can we go now?" He took the black bag from her-since he'd agreed to let her change, Cissnei had had the guards bring it back for her to pack her shirt and skirt in.

Si'ara relinquished the bag and nodded, then wrapped her arms around herself, shivering as the wind blew across the porch. Cissnei started to offer her a coat, but caught herself as she saw Reno shrug his jacket, already unbuttoned and loosely worn, off of his shoulders. Si'ara tensed as he wrapped it around her without a word, carefully lifting her hair as he did so to keep it free, then headed for the buggy to stow her bag.

Cissnei stepped toward the startled woman, smiling warmly and behaving as though such a gesture was normal behavior for the red-haired assassin. "I hope we can visit again, under better circumstances." She hugged her guest, and was surprised to find herself embraced with equal feeling as Si'ara took the cue from her and relaxed. "Maybe Reno can bring you back when you're done in Midgar."

"That would be wonderful." It was clear that Si'ara had no expectation of that, but she answered politely, and there was no doubt that her feelings were sincere.

"Talk to him," Cissnei urged softly. "One of you has to make the first move, and Reno isn't the type to tell someone how he feels."

"That depends." Si'ara's lips curled in a wry grin. "'I'd really like to take you home tonight' seems to work for him. Or, 'I'm kinda ticked about what you said, so I think I'll break your kneecaps now'." She frowned slightly, though, as she reached down and pulled the jacket closed across her torso, clearly puzzled by the odd gesture he'd made in wrapping it around her.

Cissnei chuckled, amused by the bartender's accurate view of the older Turk. "Give it a try at least," she suggested. "If he doesn't cooperate, what have you lost?"

"My dignity." Si'ara shrugged and looked out over the chocobo field. "So, nothing much, at this point. Maybe I'll give it a shot." She offered Cissnei a last smile, and headed to the buggy, where Reno was now holding her door with growing impatience.

Reno's PHS rang as he pulled his own door shut, and he flipped it open with a flick of his wrist, the lack of rain combined with the number giving him hopes that he might have seen the last of this wretched buggy. "Yo?"

Rufus's voice was impersonal as always. "As of this moment, Si'ara Ravenscar is officially under arrest for suspected conspiracy in connection to acts of industrial espionage and crimes against the people of North Corel. She is to be brought to Midgar as soon as possible to be questioned and incarcerated." He paused for a moment. "Understood, Reno?"

"Got a chopper on the way?" There was no damned need to ask if he understood, so he didn't bother to answer. His orders were simple, straightforward, and unchanged from what they'd been before the call. Only Si'ara's situation had changed, and she had no idea what it was to begin with.

"No. The storms around Midgar are still too strong to send you one. That doesn't change anything. If you have to bring her all the way here by buggy, I expect you to do it."

"What happens then?" It wasn't a question he would normally ask, but the upside to that was that when he did, he could count on getting some sort of an answer at least.

"You turn her over to Tseng, and he finds out what I need to know. If she's smart, she'll just answer my questions. If not…" Reno could picture the president's expression-careless and cold as he shrugged, indifferent. "Tseng will get the information from her, one way or another."

Reno was aware of Si'ara watching him, and kept his own expression neutral as he started the buggy, waving goodbye to Cissnei as he pulled away from the house. "Buggy'll take a while. We'll head for Fort Condor, an' keep in touch."

"You do that." Rufus disconnected, and Reno tucked his PHS back into his pocket.

Si'ara watched Reno as he climbed into the buggy. He looked different without his jacket-from a distance, he had looked younger, red hair dark against the white of his un-tucked shirt, pale skin framed by the paler fabric. But as he entered the buggy, details came into focus-his mag-rod a dark shape where it was strapped to his left arm, one gun in a shoulder holster on each side of his body, another tucked into his belt on the left. Out of uniform (as if he was ever in it), he should have looked less like a Turk, but with it, she'd been able to forget that he was armed to the teeth, a lethal opponent who was currently in control of her life. The phone call was an added reminder.

"Is anything wrong?" For the first time, there was a trace of actual fear in Si'ara's voice, although she tried to hide it. Reno knew she had only heard his side of the conversation, but she wasn't an idiot. If Rufus just wanted to talk, he could have looked up her number, or stopped by Costa Del Sol himself.

"No chopper, so we're stuck with this damned piece of wreckage for a while longer." He glared at it indignantly as he evaded the real issue adroitly. "I blame you."

For a moment, she seemed to be unsure how to take that, then she offered him a tentative grin. "It's not bad, as buggies go…"

"It's a buggy. It's bad." But she wasn't pushing him for answers he didn't want to give, so he smiled back, sea-colored eyes showing nothing more than what he wanted her to see.

Si'ara waited until the guards in the back were occupied in idle chatter before trying to talk to Reno again. Unfortunately, his mood had deteriorated as the storm outside picked up. She hoped that conversation would prove a welcome distraction, not a further annoyance.

"Cissnei said that you don't always like the things you have to do as a Turk." She watched the road out the windshield instead of looking at him.

"Yeah? Cissnei talks too much about things that are none of her business." Reno's scowl wasn't encouraging, but Si'ara figured she really didn't have much to lose by trying to talk to him at this point.

"She said I should talk to you instead of just jumping to conclusions…"

"What in Odin's name are you supposed to talk to me about?" Reno didn't bother to hide his annoyance-as fond as he was of Cissnei, she had no right to talk to Sia'ra about him, and especially about him in relation to his job or to Si'ara.

"I-" Si'ara faltered, the Turk's anger more than she'd expected from Cissnei's encouraging words. What exactly had the other woman expected them to discuss? She wasn't ready to get into the relationship stuff just yet, and after the conversation she'd half-heard, she wanted to know what to expect from the man beside her, or at least to have some idea what he was thinking. "She said you have to believe that what you're doing is right, because you trust Rufus and Tseng, even if you can't see-"

"What I believe or don't believe isn't any of your business. Or hers." The last thing Reno wanted to do right now was talk about how he felt about taking Si'ara to Midgar or whether he thought Rufus and Tseng were right to do…whatever they might wind up doing to her. He had a pretty good idea what that would be, and the problem was, if she was hiding information about terrorist activity, she deserved it. But she didn't have the same defiant, angry energy around her that she'd had back in the AVALANCHE days. And if she didn't know what was going on, Tseng and Rufus wouldn't believe her until they were sure that she'd told them all she knew. And that could take a lot longer than Reno wanted to think about…

"Was she wrong? Does this bother you, or are you enjoying it as much as you seem to?" His refusal to talk to her on a civil level made it too easy to degenerate into insults.

"It's my job, babe. Feel free to hate me for it, but don't expect me to lose any sleep over what I have to do." Her sniping tone took some of the pressure off of him, let him slip more easily into his casually defensive mode, parrying her verbal attacks with ease.

"I never said that I hated you for it. I'm not happy about it, but after talking to Cissnei, I can't blame you anymore than I could blame a pawn for the moves it makes on a chessboard. A pawn can't choose his own path-all he can do is move forward-straight line, one square, wait for further orders." It was so hard to keep from turning conversations with him into fights-there was an antagonistic energy that rose so easily between them…

Reno's lips curled in a cynical grin. "We're all pieces in someone's game, babe. At least I know who's sitting behind the board. Most people never do." He meant it as an end to the conversation, and turned toward the window, pointedly, hoping she would get the message and shut up. It was easy to walk into a house and shoot a stranger, then walk out again and walk away-or even to spend a day interrogating a target, leaving eight hours later in a blood-stained suit smelling of fear and vomit, with dried blood under your nails and sticky bits you'd rather not identify in your hair. What was hard was spending days with someone you knew and…didn't hate…knowing that at the end of it all you would turn them over to be questioned by whatever means necessary, and having to justify your actions to them in the meantime. As if _he_ should have to justify his actions to _anyone_.

"And it doesn't bother you at all?" she pressed, never one to recognize when she was losing a fight, always pressing the attack no matter how weak her position.

"How the blazes did someone as private as Vincent put up with someone as nosy as _you_ for so long?" Reno delivered what he knew would be a final blow in a voice dripping with disgust as he jerked angrily on the steering wheel, making a sharp turn around a curve in the road, throwing Si'ara and the guards against the far doors.

Si'ara's gasp of pain, however, was completely unrelated to any physical discomfort, and he knew it. The blood drained from her face, and he thought for a moment that she was going to hit him. Part of him wished that she would, that they could just fall back into old habits and fight it out, so that he could put her down hard enough that she might stay there. Instead, she turned away, dismissing him from her world completely, which he accepted as second best.

Si'ara was furious with Reno for bringing Vincent into the conversation-he had no right to bring up the other man's name, as far as she was concerned. The only thing that stopped her from lashing out at him was the knowledge that if she did so in front of the guards, he would have no choice but to put her in her place. And in spite of her bravado, and her justified confidence in her own abilities, she knew he was far better armed than she was, and probably more experienced in close-quarters fighting.

So instead she turned away, wrapping her arms around herself and staring out the window. Hitting the door had hurt, but she wasn't going to let it show, or say anything about it. She just lay her head against the back of the seat, and tried to pretend she was anywhere but stuck in a buggy with Reno the Turk.


	16. Handcuffs, Lunch, and a Text Message

**Author's Notes**: Bonus day! I have 3 chapters to post. That means, though, that they're 3 fairly lightly edited chapters. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And if you read this, and decide that you don't want to read more, please drop me a line and let me know why—was it the pacing, lack of interest in the characters as I portray them, did you not like the writing style, or do you just dislike OC's? I love positive feedback, but I'm willing to listen to criticism as well.

* * *

It was several hours before Reno stopped the buggy, pulling up a dirt road to a farmhouse. Si'ara had dozed off, but she woke as the vehicle rolled to a stop and straightened groggily. Without looking at her face, Reno leaned over and grabbed her wrist in a businesslike, impersonal grip, slender fingers cool against her skin. He snapped a pair of handcuffs onto her wrists with no more consideration than he would show any criminal in his custody, pulling her towards him and looping the chain around the steering wheel. "Stay here and watch her," he snapped at the guards before exiting the buggy.

Si'ara moved over into the middle of the seat to ease the strain on her shoulders from having her arms pulled to the other side of the buggy. She had had fitful dreams-memories of Vincent when they'd first met, the way he'd carefully avoided her without trying to be rude; unwanted memories of Cloud, who'd used her for companionship when it was convenient for him, but whose first love was the flower girl/Ancient, Aerith, and whose second love seemed to be himself. She'd been a fool to take him back as often as she had, but when he was around, he had seemed to care, and he offered her the things that Vincent wouldn't. The memories made her sick inside, and the rude awakening didn't help.

She noticed absently that the guards were watching her with rather more interest than she would have expected them to show, even considering the order they'd been given. The glances they were exchanging worried her, but it was nothing she could pin down, and before she could decide that it was worth being concerned about, they shifted their attention to the farmhouse Reno had entered, commenting that it would be good to get out and stretch. She shrugged slightly and wondered how long she would have to sit cuffed to the steering wheel.

Her question was answered a few minutes later, as Reno returned to the buggy. He opened his door and reached in to unfasten one end of the handcuffs, tugging them free from the wheel. "Come on," he said sharply, pulling on them to indicate that she was to get out through the door he had opened. "You two stay with the buggy."

Si'ara resisted just long enough to make it clear she wasn't letting him pull her out of the buggy like a child, but not long enough to make him do so. As she stood up straight for the first time in hours, pain shot through her side where she'd hit the door handle and she wasn't quick enough to stop herself from hissing in surprise at the sensation.

Reno started to reach for her, then stopped himself, turning toward the farmhouse instead, still holding the cuff he'd unfastened from the steering wheel. "We'll stop here long enough to stretch our legs and eat. Don't do anything you'll regret, okay, babe?" He made a conscious effort to be casual towards her, unwilling to apologize for his earlier words, but realizing he'd gone further than he meant to by saying them.

Si'ara looked down at her wrist. "Do I have to keep these on?"

Reno hesitated, then decided it would look better if she wasn't wearing them. With a single quick, practiced motion, he caught her wrist, turned it so he could get to the lock, and unfastened the cuff still circling her arm. "No. I'll take them off for now, but don't make me wish that I hadn't."

She nodded, looking around the farm and realizing that with the fields surrounding it in all directions, there was nowhere for her to run to, anyway. As he gestured impatiently, she followed him into the farmhouse.

An elderly man turned as they entered, and smiled. "Not often we get company out here, as I'm sure you can imagine. Bathroom's through there, miss, and I'll have some grub for ya in just a few."

Reno nodded. "Thanks. We won't be staying long-we have a ways to go before nightfall." He gave Si'ara a little push in the direction the man had indicated. "I took my turn-go ahead, yo."

She wasn't surprised, considering his words, to find that the small bathroom had no windows or possible exits-it was really just a closet with a toilet and a sink. Still, she suddenly found herself very much in need of it, and took the opportunity to use the toilet and freshen up a bit, washing herself as best she could in the sink. Then she opened Reno's jacket and checked the damage to her side. She was pretty sure she'd cracked an already-damaged rib, but nothing moved as if it was loose, so she let the jacket fall back over the spreading bruise.

Reno had waited as long as he could while Si'ara stayed in the bathroom. The old farmer had set two plates of cold cuts, cheese, and bread on the table, along with a couple mugs of beer, then had gone outside to show the guards where the outhouse was and to give them a sandwich. Now alone in the kitchen, Reno was getting impatient. He went to the bathroom door, and was about to pound on it when it opened, and he found himself chest-to-face with Si'ara.

She looked up at him, startled by his unexpected proximity, then raised her chin slightly. "Would it be too much trouble for you to let me out of the bathroom?" she asked in an acid tone.

"Not at all, babe." He grinned at her obvious discomfiture as he stepped aside, moving just enough to let her pass, but not enough to let her do it without touching him.

Si'ara brushed by him angrily, and stalked over to the table.

"Gonna be this cranky all day, yo?" Feeling much more in control of the whole situation now that she was angry and antagonistic, he dropped lazily onto the bench across from her and started to fix himself a sandwich.

"I don't know," she snapped. "I thought this was the way you wanted it." She grabbed her mug and took a long drink, then blinked and sniffed it, having not realized what it was before indulging.

Reno's lips curled in his usual smirk. "Well, usually when I spend my day in the company of a beautiful woman, I prefer a somewhat more accommodating attitude. I thought we'd already covered that?" He pushed the plate of meat toward her, and took a bite of his sandwich, waiting to see how she'd respond.

"As long as that doesn't involve her asking any questions, right?" She grabbed the knife and sliced herself two pieces of bread with an angry motion. A little toss of her head indicated that she was up for some verbal sparring-he had noticed that when she wanted to be left alone, she moved very little, like a cat that was relaxed but ready to strike out if anything came near enough to disturb it.

"Depends on the question, yo." He washed down the sandwich with a liberal amount of beer. "'Do you like it when I do this?' or 'Is there somewhere more private we could go?' Those are always okay." He took another bite to keep from laughing at her outraged expression.

"You-!" She slapped a few pieces of meat on the bread, along with a slice of cheese. "I… you're unbelievable, you know that?" She shook her head, lips curling into something halfway between a pout and a frown.

"No, I'm telling the truth. Honest." He tried to look as innocent as possible, well aware that that wasn't his strong point.

Si'ara glared at him without thinking, then dropped her gaze quickly, wishing she hadn't. As upsetting as his earlier anger had been, it didn't throw her off balance as much as his playful, flirtatious looks did.

She took a bite of her sandwich to avoid having to respond, and he let her finish her meal in silence, content to watch her and consider how best to proceed. He _was_ angry at her for her earlier words and her refusal to leave him to think his situation through on his own, but he knew it wasn't fair to take all of that out on her. The comment about Vincent had been out of line-if nothing else, he had a modicum of respect for the ex-Turk. Truth be told, however, he had some respect for the silver-haired woman across from him as well. It just didn't change the fact that taking her to Midgar was his job, and Turks don't fail. Not more than once or twice, at least. Shin-Ra had no use for anyone who couldn't do their job.

Tired of a line of thinking that wasn't leading anywhere he wanted to go right now, Reno fixed a couple of sandwiches for the road while Si'ara drained her mug. The farmer came back in, and he thanked the man for his hospitality, laying some cash on the table in spite of the man's protests. Then he turned to Si'ara and nodded toward the door. "Time to go, doll. We've got places to be."

Si'ara licked her lips and stared at the empty mug in front of her as she stood up. It had been home-brewed beer, and much stronger than she was used to. In spite of owning a bar, or perhaps because of it, she drank very rarely, and the lightheaded feeling she was experiencing told her she was a little tipsy. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't a melancholy or angry drunk. She was a friendly drunk, and Reno- She stared at the Turk, realizing for the first time that Reno _always_ looked like he was ready to go-his tousled hair, half-open shirt and jacket, that cocky, knowing grin-he was like a walking ad for sex. She understood suddenly how so many women ended up in bed with him, whether they set out to do so or not. It took her a moment to focus on the comment he'd just made so that she could respond.

"Sure," she agreed amicably, then she turned to the farmer. "Thank you for your hospitality, sir." She smiled warmly at him before turning back to Reno.

Reno saw the look in Si'ara's eyes as she stood up, and offered her his arm with a grin. She didn't take it, but she pressed against him as she walked past, and paused in the doorway, tossing him a look he had hitherto only seen from her in some of his more interesting dreams. Shaking his head, he took hold of her arm firmly, steering her toward the buggy. "Don't tempt me, sweetness," he said softly, cursing the timing that prevented him from taking her up on her slightly inebriated offer. "I'm not known for resisting."

His words were like a splash of cold water, leading her to realize abruptly how inappropriately she was behaving. Briefly sobered, Si'ara turned away, but she couldn't help leaning into him slightly, surrounding herself with his presence, the warmth of his body against her arm, the scent of his cologne. She nodded slightly to let him know that she wasn't ignoring his advice, and pulled away almost immediately, then let him hand her into the buggy.

Before joining Si'ara and the guards, Reno flipped open his PHS with an irritable snap and checked his messages. He was aware that Tseng had called or had had a secretary call, a couple of times, but Reno hadn't been in the mood to talk. After the last call, it seemed his boss had decided that a text message would be more effective.

_Reno, I don't know why you are choosing not to answer your PHS, but I look forward to hearing you justify such behavior. I assume that Rufus has called you, but has given you limited information. Without getting into details-we have had people watching Si'ara's bar in Costa Del Sol, and we received a report last night that several people known to have ties to terrorist organisations have been seen coming and going in the last couple days. Rufus believes this points clearly to Si'ara's involvement in terrorist activities once more. I am having the matter investigated further before jumping to such conclusions. Please continue your present course of action._

Reno read the message twice before closing the PHS. His first reaction, as he'd scanned it, had been fury at Si'ara for being a duplicitous terrorist hiding under a deceitful veneer of morality. However, Tseng was his boss for a reason. If Tseng was still giving her the benefit of the doubt, he would do so as well. There had been times in the past when Tseng's orders had differed from that of the company, and the unspoken rule was that the Turks stood together. He took out a cigarette and lit it, leaned back against the buggy to indulge in one long mind-clearing drag, then climbed into the driver's seat.

Si'ara leaned against the seat again, looking out the window to keep herself out of trouble. Reno had seemed almost pensive when he'd gotten back into the buggy, and she'd decided she didn't want to make him angry again, at least not in the car where he had the guards to back him up. So, she let herself drift off into another restless nap.


	17. A Comfy Jacket, Catching up, Nightfall

**Reusable** **Author's Notes**: Bonus day! I have 3 chapters to post. That means, though, that they're 3 fairly lightly edited chapters. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And if you read this, and decide that you don't want to read more, please drop me a line and let me know why—was it the pacing, lack of interest in the characters as I portray them, did you not like the writing style, or do you just dislike OC's? I love positive feedback, but I'm willing to listen to criticism as well.

* * *

The drive was boring as hell without Si'ara to argue with, and several times Reno considered waking her up so he could hassle her. What stopped him was purely a matter of timing-he'd finally turned to poke at her, and just at that moment, she'd shifted in her sleep. Her head was resting against her shoulder, with her arm folded up and her wrist against her neck. As he'd reached for her, she'd sniffed slightly as she settled, then had taken a deep breath, a soft smile curling her lips. Her face had relaxed, and she'd snuggled down into the jacket she was wearing with a contented sigh. And just like that, he was undone. He spent the rest of the drive trying not to jar or disturb her, and let her sleep until his stomach reminded him how long it had been since they'd eaten.

A gentle pressure on her arm awoke Si'ara. She opened her eyes to find Reno watching her, turquoise eyes unreadable, one hand wrapped around her forearm. He released her when he saw that she was awake.

"Hey, I fixed us sandwiches back at the old man's place. Hungry?"

"Mmm." She sat up and looked around, realizing that it was nearly dark outside. "Yeah, please. Where are we?" He seemed to be in a better mood at least. She assumed that being left alone to drive instead of having her pester him with questions had probably made the difference. Although she really wanted to know whether Tseng or Rufus had indicated that they wanted her for something more sinister than a chat, she decided it would be better to leave the subject alone for a while.

Reno grinned and handed her a sandwich, passed up to him from the back. "In the buggy, yo. Much to my disgust. It was supposed to be a chopper."

Si'ara rolled her eyes at the expected evasion and took the sandwich. "So you're not going to tell me where we're going?" At least if she had some idea where they were and where they were headed, she could set her mind to planning a route of escape. She would need a destination when she finally got the chance to run, and knowing how far that was would help her choose when and where to split.

"Told you already, babe." He took a bite of his sandwich, eyes sparkling with wicked humor.

"Fort Condor?" She had heard him mention the location on the PHS earlier. While waiting for him to answer, she started in on her sandwich.

"Midgar." He shrugged. "But yeah, probably Fort Condor first." He wasn't looking forward to her next attempt to flee. He knew she'd try again-hell, if he was in her place, he would-but she wouldn't enjoy the result, and that would just make things worse between them.

"Will we make it tonight?" She had no idea how fast they'd been going. She hadn't woken much on the trip, so she assumed he'd been driving fairly carefully.

"Nah. There's a farm about two hours' drive from here. We'll stop there for the night." One of the guards offered a bottle from the back, and he snagged it, popping the cap off before pulling it into the front. Warm beer. Well, it was better than nothing. He took a drink to wash down the sandwich, and offered it to Si'ara.

Sharing a bottle of beer with Reno seemed like one ingredient in a recipe for disaster. Si'ara took it with a sigh. The sandwich was good, but the bread was too dry for her to eat it without anything to drink. After a couple swallows, she handed it back. "Thanks. That was plenty."

Reno tossed her a leering grin. "Just wanted your lips to touch the bottle, babe. See? You _can_ be accommodating."

"Reno?" She closed her eyes, wishing for enough patience to make it through the drive. "Shouldn't you just be driving or something?"

The rest of the beer went down smoothly, and Reno tossed the empty bottle into the back. "So, what've you been up to lately, Si'ara? It's been a while…"

Si'ara looked away. She had no interest in talking to Reno about her life right now. It wasn't bad, it was just so empty, and only when she was around someone like him, someone she'd known for so long, did she realize it. She had old friends, but that was just it. They were all _old _friends. Cloud, Barret, Cid, Yuffie, Reeve, all of them had moved on. Even Vincent, in many ways. They'd met new people, carved out new lives for themselves. She still ran a bar, the same routine day in and day out. Her combat skills were never used, although she made a point of training to keep them sharp. She didn't meet new people, she avoided them.

"It's nothing new," she said carefully. "You know bars. It's not so bad in Costa Del Sol, I suppose-at least a lot of the people who come in there are tourists, so they aren't all drinking away their sorrows. But it's still a bar."

"So why do you run it?" Reno was genuinely puzzled. Si'ara had run a bar in Midgar before all of the problems with AVALANCHE and Sephiroth, then another in Edge, the city built outside Midgar after Meteorfall. When she'd taken over the one in Costa Del Sol, he'd assumed it was just what she wanted to do.

"Oh, I don't mean to complain." She leaned back carefully, looking out the front as they drove on through the night. "It's just that…" He was a Turk. How would he understand what it felt like to have all these skills but never get to use them? He used his all the time-too often, probably. "I don't know. It's just that after all I've done, it seems like… It's too easy."

"Gotta be some way to liven things up, yo." This wasn't good. She sounded like she'd jump at the chance to get back into the AVALANCHE lifestyle. Clandestine meetings, plotting against Shin-Ra, hiding terrorists, those were things that added excitement to any life.

"Nothing personal, Reno, but how I keep myself entertained isn't really any of your business." She'd rather have him think that she did _something_ than know that she'd meekly accepted her essentially retired status. That she did the same thing day after day, and had been looking forward to something as dull as getting out of town for a few days as if it was the vacation of a lifetime. Hell, being taken captive by the Turks was actually an almost welcome change! "I really do like my job. It's just not very exciting to talk about."

"Whatever you say, babe. I got no problem with bars, and yours was always a decent place to spend a few hours and more than a few gil." He tossed her a crooked grin, and was rewarded with a flash of a smile.

"And you were always fun to have around." She remembered how rarely he'd left the bar alone, though, and the smile faded. "Well, most of the time."

They drove on in companionable enough silence until the farm Reno had mentioned came into view in the distance. As they pulled off the road, headed up the lane toward the house, Reno slanted a glance at Si'ara.

"Babe, I'll leave the cuffs off and act like we're just traveling together, but that only lasts as long as you play along." Reno suspected that he would wind up regretting that decision, but he _knew_ the time at the farm would be unpleasant if he left her in cuffs as his prisoner.

Si'ara started to tell him that she wouldn't make any promises, then realized that he hadn't asked her to. It was possible that that was coincidence, but knowing Reno, that probably wasn't the case. She wasn't sure what to make of that. He was treating her much more decently than she'd expected since he'd woken her up to eat. She wondered what had happened to make him change his attitude.

Reno left Si'ara in the buggy with the guards while he went up to the farm to make arrangements for their stay. As he walked back out to let those in the car know what was going on, he almost ran into a buxom young woman on her way in from the barn. She had a typical young farmgirl look-her hair was sun-drenched blonde, her body shapely and muscular, her skin golden from days spent outside in the summer.

"Oh, sir!" She jumped, then got a good look at him and smiled, cheeks dimpling prettily. "Is there anything I can help you with? My father is in the barn, but if there's anything you need…?" There was just enough stress on "anything" to make Reno grin.

"Nah. I think we're good for now. The lady in the kitchen said there's a room we can stay in for the night, and that's all we were looking for."

"My mother." She didn't step aside, but shifted the box she was carrying onto one hip and curtsied slightly. "I'm Lillia. If you want anything later, or if the room she put you in isn't to your liking, just ask for me, and I'll see what I can do." She slipped past him into the house instead of moving out of his way, letting the curve of a breast brush against his arm in passing. Reno, always appreciative of an attractive woman, turned to watch her as she went into the kitchen.

Si'ara, who had watched the exchange with a degree of interest, noted that Reno was still grinning when he turned back towards the buggy. She wasn't sure why it made her as angry as it did, and she was determined not to ruin this evening any sooner than she had to, so as Reno approached, she managed to look interested in what he had to say, instead of annoyed by his typical flirting.

"Okay. Si'ara, we're staying in the house. You two, there are bunks in the stable you can use." Reno jerked his head in the direction of the barn, and offered his hand to Si'ara. She took it, and let him help her out of the buggy, then he let go and gestured toward the house, following her as she walked towards it.

The room into which Si'ara walked was a kitchen, occupied by a cheerful looking middle-aged woman. She smiled at Si'ara and Reno and brushed her hands off on her apron. "This way, luvs," she called as she headed down a hall with a glance over her shoulder to make sure they were following. The blonde girl was nowhere in sight.

Si'ara glanced behind her to make sure Reno was still there, and he shot her a reassuring smile. She found herself returning it without thinking, then the woman pushed open a door, showing them the room where they would be staying.

It was a sparsely-furnished bedroom, decent-sized with no ornamentation, but it had a pleasant rustic look to it. A single bed stood against the far wall, draped in a colorful quilt, and there was a dresser just to the left of the door. A woven-rag rug covered a portion of the floor, and she informed them that the bathroom was across the hall.

"Thank you." Reno smiled politely as he slipped past her. "We'll only be staying the night."

"And for breakfast, dearies." The lady's expression made it clear that even if they said no, she had every intention of feeding them before she let them leave. Si'ara didn't mind, and she liked watching people order Reno around or make him do as they wanted instead of catering to his wishes.

He shook his head as the farmwife left, then turned to Si'ara. "I'll go get our stuff and check on the guards. Wait in here for me, 'kay, babe?"

"How about you quit calling me 'babe', and I'll agree to stay here while you go get the luggage?"

Reno grinned. "I could say 'yeah', but we both know it's not gonna happen…babe." He slipped out the door before she could respond.

Si'ara, considering herself thereby freed from any promise to stay in the room, followed him as far as the kitchen. He didn't say anything, so she sat down at a table in the corner when the farmwife gestured to it, and took the glass of warm milk she was offered.

"So, where are you folks heading to?" The woman went back to work, sorting fruit on a long counter. She glanced up at Si'ara with a polite smile, and Si'ara realized that she wasn't being nosy, just trying to make conversation.

"Oh, wherever we wind up, I suppose." She smiled and took a sip of her milk. "Are those strawberries?

"Why, yes." An encouraging smile accompanied the words, as though the woman felt any city girl, as Si'ara realized she clearly was, was to be congratulated for distinguishing one fruit from another. "I'm sorting them for eating, selling, and for jams. My daughter was supposed to help, but she'll be up early in the morning, so I think she's gone off to bed now."

"I should probably do the same." Si'ara finished her milk as Reno walked back in with his bag. She raised an eyebrow, and he smirked. "I didn't feel up to carrying your case as well, so I grabbed you an outfit," he informed her. "Ready?" He paused at the entrance to the hall, and she set down the glass, then joined him.

"Grabbed me an outfit?" she murmured as she followed him. "Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not sure I like the idea of you picking out my clothes."

"But what choice do you have? You didn't do such a great job, didja?" He tossed down the bag and stretched, looking around the room, then peeking out the one window, on the wall to the right of the door. "Hot, but not practical for the circumstances," he added, defusing the angry response she was forming.

"Well, I'll see what you picked up. It can't be too bad-Cissnei put together some very nice outfits."

"'Kay." He opened the top dresser drawer, which turned out to be empty. "I've got a couple things to do. Listen." He turned his attention back to her, and his expression was serious. "I'm gonna wait here while you use the bathroom. Then, I'm locking you in." He held up a hand to forestall any arguments. "Si'ara, I'm trying to make this as easy as I can on you. Work with me, here."

Si'ara looked away, then nodded. There was a window if she wanted to pretend she could leave, but really, this wasn't the time to be running. Fort Condor would be better-there were more people there, more places to hide.

Reno smiled and ruffled her hair lightly. "Good girl." He checked the next dresser drawer, effectively dismissing her, and she took the hint, heading to the bathroom.

It was a nicer bathroom than the one she'd had to settle for earlier-it had a large sink and a mirror. She peeled off most of her clothes, used the bathroom, and washed herself as best she could in the sink with one of the towels hanging on the wall. Once she was cleaner, she slipped the clothes back on and tucked her boots under her arm, then returned to the room.

Reno was flopped down on the bed, but stood up when she walked in. "Feel better?" She nodded, and he pointed at the top of the dresser. "I thought you might like to use those. You don't have to, just, you know, if you wanted."

She turned, curious, and found a comb, mirror, and a folded shirt. Reno slipped past her while she was checking that out, and she heard him lock the door as she left. Less bothered by it than she'd expected, she just turned the light off-the window let in enough moonlight for her to comb her hair and change, and the darkness gave her a sense of privacy she'd been lacking the last couple days. Her boots were tossed into a corner, followed after a moment's thought by most of the clothes she had on. The shirt, presumably one of Reno's, reached halfway down her thighs-good enough for a nightshirt. Thus attired, she picked up the comb and headed to the window to comb her hair while she indulged in some stargazing.


	18. Buxom Blondes, Broken Ribs, and Choices

**Reusable** **Author's Notes**: Bonus day! I have 3 chapters to post. That means, though, that they're 3 fairly lightly edited chapters. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And if you read this, and decide that you don't want to read more, please drop me a line and let me know why—was it the pacing, lack of interest in the characters as I portray them, did you not like the writing style, or do you just dislike OC's? I love positive feedback, but I'm willing to listen to criticism as well.

This is one of my favourite chapters. I'm not sure why, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

**UPDATED 1/13. Did some editing and fleshed things out a little.**

* * *

Reno's first stop was the barn, to make sure the guards were bunked down for the night. He made a point of reminding them not to spend time fraternizing with the farmhands, his experience with Shinra's less-than-elite having taught him that in general, they would take any amusement they could get. The distasteful task of visiting the barn thus dispensed with, he made a quick stop by the buggy, then headed back to the house, and the room where he hoped to find Si'ara in some sort of decent mood. She had seemed pleased by the comb and shirt he'd left for her, and had made no protest or complaint over being locked into the room when he left. For the first time since starting this mission, he was looking forward to seeing her and possibly having a chance to talk, catch up and carefully reminisce.

As he turned away from the buggy, however, a flicker of movement caught his eye from around the side of the farmhouse-a figure moving slowly through the patterns of shadow and moonlight.

His immediate thought, because it was the side of the building onto which their window faced, was that Si'ara had been foolish enough to try to slip away during his brief absence. Slender fingers curled into fists and then straightened as his jaw clenched, and he stepped into the shadows without thought, becoming one with the night as he stalked his prey, a promise of retribution in suddenly steel-grey eyes. Admittedly, he hadn't _trusted _her, per se-after all, he had locked the door-but he had expected her to wait, had anticipated a friendly, or at least casual return to the room and her company. He hadn't expected to be chasing her across fields no doubt laden with chocobo-surprises and other traps for the unenlightened urbanite.

His scowl faded into a faint grin of relief when he saw that the window in the room they were using was closed, and the motion he had seen was the farmer's daughter, walking over to pick an apple from one of the trees in the yard. The shadows slid effortlessly from his shoulders as he moved into a patch of moonlight, and the young woman turned swiftly, startled to find him so close.

Her eyes lit up as she recognized him, and her lips curled in a hopeful smile, cheeks dimpling attractively as she hurried over, offering him the freshly-plucked fruit. "Hi," she said softly, a note of shyness he occasionally found appealing adding to her potential charm. "I didn't think I'd see you again before you headed out." Her expression made it clear that the thought had been a disheartening one. As he took the apple with a faintly amused half-grin, she moved closer, not quite touching him, but only just. "I'm glad I caught you." Turning her face up to his, she fluttered long lashes over wide blue eyes. "I wondered…" She licked her lips provocatively, "I thought maybe we could get to know each other better…"

Reno found himself in a familiar position-looking down at a beautiful woman, freely offering herself to him as so many had done in the past. Oddly, however, he felt no real desire to take her up on her offer. There was something about her nagging at his subconscious-a sense that she would do as he asked without question or protest. It was a quality he usually valued in a woman he was considering as a bed partner, but which now seemed somehow…tiresome and dull.

She leaned closer as he hesitated, pressing her full, ripe breasts against his chest, and other parts of his mind pointed out that actually, there was a lot to be said for a willing and pliant woman, as opposed to one who fought him at every turn. Perhaps, they whispered, if he wasn't so frustrated, he'd find it easier to deal with Si'ara… He wanted her, plain and simple, but it was just as clear that he had no right to touch her. Was it any wonder he was so irritable?

His decision made, Reno smiled down at the young woman, whose eyes glowed with the realization that he had accepted her offer. Her lips parted slightly, and her hands moved toward him, not quite touching, but ready to respond to any caresses he might bestow upon her. He felt a tension he hadn't been aware of draining away as he shifted his weight slightly, leaning into her.

As he bent his head to brush his lips across the pair so eagerly offered, however, he caught a flash of motion in the window of the bedroom he and his captive were to use. Moonlight glinted briefly off of his comb, and from where he stood he could make out Si'ara's form, frozen as she stared in his direction. As he realized what he was seeing, the moonlight swept across a fan of silver, her hair flying around her as she spun quickly away from the window.

Reno pulled back from the farmgirl as though burned. "You need to get to bed," he snapped, inexplicably furious with himself and with Si'ara, and taking it out on the closest target. "I'm sure you have chocobos to chase in the morning or something." With that, he turned sharply on his heel and strode away, not bothering to see her reaction as he headed toward the front of the house.

As he rounded the corner, however, his PHS rang, and an irritated glance at it revealed the caller to be Tseng. He stopped in his tracks and stared at it a moment, wondering what news his superior would have, then flipped it open.

"Reno," he said shortly, by way of answering.

"So you do still _have _your PHS?" Tseng's tone was mild, but Reno knew he was annoyed-he always got cranky when his operatives didn't cooperate with his attempts to keep tabs on them.

"Yeah. What's going on, yo?" Reno wasn't in the mood for idle chatter, and didn't bother to hide that fact from Tseng. Tseng would know anyway-he picked up on things like that. It was one of the reasons he was such an effective leader for the Turks, and an effective operative when he went out in the field himself.

"You still have Si'ara?"

Not what Reno wanted to hear. "Yeah. Problems?" He draped his lean frame against the side of the farmhouse, cradling the PHS against his shoulder while he pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

"I don't know. I've asked Rufus not to contact you directly while you're bringing her in, and he's agreed, as long as I can keep him informed." Tseng was quiet for a moment, and Reno gave him time while he took a long, much-needed drag on the cigarette. "I'll tell you what we know for certain," Tseng said finally. "At least some of the people who were seen at Si'ara's bar have also been seen in North Corel, scoping out the power plant. There are six people for certain who meet there semi-regularly, and half of them have been seen in both places." He stopped, and if Reno hadn't known better, he would have sworn he heard Tseng sigh.

"So she's involved?" He clenched his jaw, his hand curling into a fist as he took another drag.

"I don't know." Tseng almost snapped the words, a display of emotion uncharacteristic of the Turk. "It doesn't feel right. Reno, you're with her. What do you think?"

"How in Odin's name would I know? When she isn't trying to run or thinking she can kick my ass…, well, we're not exactly on chatty terms."

"If you can't tell me more than I already know, you are not the man for this job." Tseng spoke calmly, but a reprimand from him was not something any Turk took lightly. It snapped Reno's world back into focus.

Unfortunately, that didn't change the situation. Reno sighed. "Tseng, I don't know," he said quietly. "Give me until morning, let me get back to you. She's not an easy person to read, yo. I don't think Rude or Elena could do better."

"Call me when your words will be worth my time." Tseng hung up without waiting for a response.

Reno cursed softly as he put his PHS away, and wondered why he couldn't have gotten an easy assignment, like chasing Wutaian agents through their home territory at night, alone and unarmed, or wrestling the Midgar Zolom. Something straightforward and easy to deal with. He paced irritably up and down the front of the building while he finished his cigarette, ate the apple the blonde wench had given him to clear the taste of cigarette from his mouth, then paced a few minutes longer to clear his head. Finally, he headed inside and to the room where Si'ara was waiting. He turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, hoping she was still awake.

The palm of her hand met his face with enough force to throw him off-balance. Reacting automatically, Reno grabbed her arm and twisted it, pushing backwards and down, forcing her to the floor. She tried to jerk her arm away from him, swinging at him with the other hand, and he caught that one as well, pulling her to her feet, then shoving her backwards, into the middle of the room.

"Okay, Si'ara," he spat, the unexpected attack giving him an excuse to make her the focus of his anger, "if this is how you want it." He could see the tears glistening on her cheeks, but he still wanted to hit something, and she'd certainly shown her willingness to fight. "You wanna go? Let's go." He stepped into the room, pushing the door shut with his foot. She looked like she wasn't sure he meant it, so he added with a mocking grin, "or are you ready to admit you're too old and out of shape to keep up?"

Si'ara, who had been thrown off by his response and ready to back down and talk, changed her mind in that instant. She'd seen him kiss the farmgirl, and she knew he'd seen her watching. When she'd spun away from the window, she'd initially hoped that it had all been a mistake, that he would come through the door at any moment, having sent the little hussy on her way. But as time had passed, she'd realized how unlikely that was. The girl had to be 10 years Si'ara's junior-fresh, young, pretty, and willing. Just what Reno wanted.

She launched herself at him with all of that in her mind, starting off with a punch aimed at his chest, her secondary attack a knee to the groin. He twisted sideways, avoiding the knee completely, and barely grazed by her fist, then brought his elbow around at the back of her neck as she stepped past him. She ducked, grabbing him by the knee and dumping him onto the floor. He caught her by the arm and threw her over him, rolling to his feet as she regained hers.

Neither of them spoke. Si'ara aimed a kick at his chest, and as he brought his arm up to block that, flipped, catching him in the stomach with the other foot. She heard him grunt in pain, then there was a metallic hiss, and his EMR was in his hand, not activated, but still over two feet of steel that he wielded with deadly skill. She dropped back into a defensive pose, ducked as he swung the EMR at the side of her head, and blocked a kick with her forearm. She followed the block immediately with an attempt at a throat punch, but he flipped the EMR in his left hand, grabbing the other end in his right and catching her across _her_ throat instead. She fell back, coughing, and aimed a kick at his side. He let her hit him, wincing slightly, and cracked the EMR against her ribs.

To Reno's shock, Si'ara dropped immediately with a stifled cry, wrapping her arms around herself and curling up on the floor, whimpering. His first reaction was suspicion, but what was the worst she could do? He was the one with the EMR. He activated it just to be safe and dropped down next to her to see if he could figure out what had happened.

Si'ara had felt the ribs crack when he'd hit her. They might have been fractured before, but there was no question now. Pain had blossomed in her side like an exploding star, robbing her of her senses, her balance, her awareness of her surrounding. She heard the crackle of electricity as he knelt beside her, and she waited for the pain to recede as she slipped into unconsciousness. When he simply touched her shoulder with his hand instead of knocking her out, she found herself unable to hold back her tears, and tried to pull away to hide them.

"Si'ara? What the hell?" Reno took hold of her arm, trying to pull it away from her side. "I didn't hit you that hard…" He had been enjoying the fight, relishing the opportunity to work out some of his anger, and she'd seemed okay right up until that last time he'd hit her. He had assumed that they'd spar for a while, then he'd pin her down and they'd be able to talk. But she looked like she was really hurt.

For one thing, even though she was wearing nothing but underwear and one of his shirts, she wasn't making any effort to cover herself or keep him from touching her. She resisted for a second when he pulled at her arm, then let him lift it, dropping the other one to the floor so they were no longer wrapped around her. He hesitated, then turned off the EMR and put it away before moving the shirt, careful to pull it off of her side without revealing more of her than necessary.

"Fuck." He said it softly as he saw the bruise covering most of her side. That morning at Cissnei's, it had been a pale discoloration, presumably from when she'd hit the water in Junon. Now the center of it was a dark purple bruise he couldn't quite cover with his hand, and there was an angry welt darkening the center of that. "Si'ara…" He took both of her wrists in his right hand and pinned them to the ground. "Baby, don't move. This'll hurt a bit-I'm sorry." He found her ribs with his fingers and followed them from front to back, pressing enough to be certain that nothing had broken completely free.

Si'ara wanted to push him away, to tell him she was fine and he could go back to his little blonde hussy, but he was being so damned gentle that she couldn't bring herself to do it. He let go of her wrists as soon as he'd finished checking her ribs, then rocked back on his heels.

"Listen," he said, standing up, "I'm gonna go get some ice and something to wrap this with. If you can't get onto the bed, I'll help you up when I get back. Just… just take it easy, 'kay?"

Si'ara nodded, and watched him leave the room. Old and out of shape. Yeah, that kinda summed it up. She rolled onto her stomach, and got to her feet, half pushing herself up from the floor, half pulling herself up with the bed. She collapsed onto it gratefully. Idiot. What had she been thinking? Now she was in no shape to run. She rolled onto her left side, her back to the room.

Reno came back a few minutes later. She heard him close the door behind himself carefully, then cross the floor to the bed.

"Okay. It's better than I'd hoped. The farmer has a materia for treating life-threatening injuries, which apparently is a regular danger on a farm." He shook his head. "Rampaging chocobos, falling from barn roofs, I don't know. Farm stuff, yo." She didn't move as he sat on the edge of the bed. "It won't heal everything, but it should take care of the worst of it." Unable to resist, he gathered a handful of her hair in one hand, sliding the silky strands through his fingers as he pulled them away from her face and looked down at her. "I don't have any curative materia. Do you want me to use this one?"

Too unhappy and sore to think of any sarcastic rejoinder, Si'ara just nodded. Of course she wanted him to use the damned thing. Did he think she liked suffering like this? All of it was his fault, one way or another-the fall from the tower, being slammed into the handle of the door, the fucking EMR to the ribs…

Reno stroked her hair as he lay his hand on her side, materia curled in his palm. He ran it over the bruise, tracing the contours of her ribs, sliding it over her back where he'd seen other injuries from her fall. As she finally started to relax, he pulled the shirt back down over her carefully. "Si'ara, are you up to talking?" He put the materia in his pocket. "Si'ara?"

She was out cold. He watched her chest rise and fall steadily for a minute, then stood and reached past her to fold the blankets back. Careful not to hurt her, he lifted her over to the side of the bed by the wall, then covered her with the sheet and quilt.

Si'ara woke in a strange bed in a dark room, with a warm body at her back. She panicked for a moment, thrown off by the sense of unfamiliarity, then relaxed as she realized where she was. A look over her shoulder revealed that Reno appeared to be sound asleep, his face relaxed, free of its customary smirk or more recent scowls. She reached toward him, then drew back and touched her side. The bruise was still there, but no worse than it had been when they'd left Cissnei's. She vaguely remembered Reno and a materia, but the details were fuzzy.

Another sensation intruded gradually, and she pushed the quilt and sheet aside, then slipped off the end of the bed to go to the bathroom without disturbing Reno. A quick glance assured her that she'd been successful, and she slipped out of the room quietly.

Reno woke the instant Si'ara moved, but lay still while she checked on him, then herself. When she got off of the bed, he almost spoke, but he'd caused her little but suffering lately, so he decided to give her a modicum of freedom and see what she'd do with it. When the door opened again a few minutes later to admit her, he relaxed, watching her from behind his lashes as she closed it.

Si'ara was about to go back to the bed when she caught a glimpse of metal on the dresser. She paused, then her curiosity got the better of her and she walked over to see what it was. Reno's wallet, goggles, PHS, and EMR all lay there, discarded casually when he went to bed, she assumed. She glanced over to make sure he was sleeping, then reached out slowly. The PHS, wallet, and goggles she left alone, but the mag-rod… She touched the leather cuff that went around his wrist, traced the double strap that ran to it from the base of the rod, then picked up the EMR itself. It was closed, less than half its extended length, a foot or so of metal with two rubber grips and a red button to activate it, branded with the Shin-Ra logo. She stared at it, puzzled. Other people used EMRs-as far as she knew, they were standard issue for the Turks. But this didn't feel like a generic weapon. She felt like she was doing something wrong by holding it-it felt akin to picking up one of Vincent's weapons without his permission. Like a violation of some sort. She set it back down and walked over to the window, staring out at the dimly lit fields.

Reno had tensed when she'd picked up the weapon, his hand going reflexively for the gun under his pillow. But she had only held it a moment before setting it down and moving away. He rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head, watching her as she looked out the window.

"See, babe?" he said softly.

She started, and turned her head to look at him questioningly, pulling the shirt closed more before turning around the rest of the way.

"You do make good choices sometimes." He glanced toward the dresser and she flushed slightly.

"I'm tired, Reno. Let it go." Half of her was disappointed in herself for putting it down. If she'd knocked him out, she could have had his wallet, his weapons, and the buggy. On the other hand, that was a pretty big 'if', especially since he'd obviously been awake.

"Come to bed." He pulled the quilt and sheet back further with one arm, still laying on the other.

Si'ara stared at him, momentarily speechless. He was shirtless, stretched out in bed and now urging her to join him. It hurt just to look at him, knowing that she was nothing more than a job to be done, while other women were pleasures in which to indulge. She turned away before he could see her expression.

"Si'ara? Let's not play the 'go to sleep or I'll put you to sleep' game tonight, okay? Haven't we done enough fighting, yo?"

"I'm not tired, Reno. I slept most of the day." She responded tersely without looking at him.

"Get in bed, Si'ara." He didn't bother hiding the irritation in his voice anymore. Why did she have to make everything into a battle?

"Fine." She turned around sharply. "But don't blame me if I keep you up all night with my tossing and turning." She stalked over to the foot of the bed.

"Oh, sweetness, I'd let you keep me up all night anytime." He smiled, delighted that she'd given him such an opening.

Si'ara flopped down and pulled the covers over herself angrily, turning to face the wall. "Like I'd stoop to sleeping with the slut of the Turks," she muttered.

Reno's smile vanished, his eyes growing hard and cold. Without a word, he turned his back on her, and spent the rest of the night glaring at the wall next to the dresser.


	19. Leavetaking, Terrorism, and Memories

**Author's notes**: I know I haven't updated for a while—my obsessions swing from one thing to another sometimes, and I need the obsession to keep me writing. This was written quite some time ago, and I still have more, but the section following this one seems rough to me, so I'm trying to decide whether I should post it as it is and solicit opinions and suggestions, or try to rewrite it to my satisfaction. I'm just afraid that if I go with the latter, it may be ages before I get it up here, and there's a fair bit following it that I'm quite happy with. Anyhow, please accept my apologies for the long wait, and enjoy or criticize. I'm genuinely good with either, as long as it's at least nominally constructive criticism.

* * *

Si'ara didn't sleep after her angry comment, either. She'd meant it-that was the worst part. Once her anger over his actions back in the days of Old Man Shinra's leadership had worn off, that had _always_ been her number one reason for staying away from Reno. She was willing to admit that there was a certain degree of attraction, at least when he wasn't being an utter ass. But she wasn't going to join his list of conquests, and that was all women seemed to be to him. Hell, she doubted he could even say what the farmgirl's name was-he probably hadn't bothered to ask. So she stared at the wall in silence until she felt him get out of bed.

Pure willpower kept her from sneaking a peek to see if he was wearing anything. She fed it with anger, and managed to keep her back turned while he grabbed the bag he'd brought in the night before and the items on the dresser. Only when she heard the door shut behind him did she finally roll over, tired of glaring a hole in the farmhouse wallpaper.

When he came back in a little later, he was dressed in his usual uniform-careless and casual, typical Reno. He tossed the bag down on the floor by the bed without sparing her as much as a glance. "I'm going out to tell the guards we're leaving. Get dressed." And with that, he was gone.

Si'ara stared at the door for a moment, then slipped out of bed and grabbed the bag. The clothes Reno had brought in for her were a purple and black layered skirt that almost reached her knees, and a purple ruffled poet's shirt to match. The shirt was soft and loose, and she'd liked the outfit enough when she'd found it that she'd almost worn it instead of the jeans and shirt she'd chosen. The main deciding factor had been that she'd worn the same skirt for too long, and jeans seemed like a welcome change.

She dressed quickly, folding the shirt she'd slept in and sticking it in the bag, then combing her hair and tossing the comb in after it. She slung the bag over her shoulder and headed out to find Reno.

He was in the kitchen, accepting a packed hamper the farmwife was pressing into his hands. His gaze cut to Si'ara briefly, then he set the hamper on the table and pulled out his wallet.

"Oh, no you don't, dearie." The farmwife actually put her hands on his wallet, closing it as he tried to flip it open. "This is a treat for you folk to enjoy on your drive. You just take it and enjoy it." She beamed at both of them, apparently oblivious to any tension between them.

The cozy scenario was interrupted as her daughter entered the room from another hall. She saw them standing there, stopped in the doorway, then raised her chin and stalked past them, out the front door. Si'ara frowned and glanced at Reno.

The look he gave her in return was ice-cold, then he turned his back on her and thanked the farmwife for her hospitality. "Si'ara," he snapped over his shoulder, "let's go." He walked out the door without a backwards glance, and Si'ara followed slowly, smiling at their hostess and thanking her as she left.

Reno was waiting at the back of the buggy. As she joined him, he pulled the bag off her shoulder and tossed it into the trunk before closing it. "Get in." He jerked his head in the direction of her door, and headed to his own.

As soon as her door shut, he locked them, starting the engine with a grimace. "We should reach Fort Condor today," he informed the guards, glancing in the mirror. Without waiting for or acknowledging a response, he rolled down his window and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag as he pulled back onto the road.

Si'ara watched Reno smoke and tried to decide whether she could bring herself to ask what had actually happened between him and the girl at the farm. She knew it was none of her business, and after the conversation they'd had after leaving Cissnei's, she wasn't sure how to approach the subject. For that matter, she wasn't sure why it was so important to her. With a sigh, she decided she didn't feel up to talking to him yet, but Reno turned to her abruptly, turquoise eyes cold and business-like-pure Turk, not Reno.

"Tell me what you know about the armed regulars at your bar, Si'ara," he said tightly, watching her.

Si'ara knew she hadn't been quick enough to hide her look of surprise, but she kept her expression neutral. "I don't know them well," she said coolly. "I don't really socialize with my customers."

"Is _that_ all they are?" Incredulity twisted his words into an accusation of deception.

"They buy drinks," she said calmly. "That's my job, remember? I run a bar? I'm not sleeping with them, if that's what you're asking."

"_I_ don't make accusations or assumptions about _your _sex life, Si'ara. I want to know why you have terrorists coming and going at your establishment." He took another drag on the cigarette without looking away from her, then twisted his lips in a mockery of a smile and offered it to her.

Si'ara reached out and took it, placed it between her lips, and inhaled slowly, trying to decide what to tell him. Caught off guard by her acceptance of the cigarette, he stared at her for a moment, then turned and blew smoke out his window before letting hers down a few inches. He took the cigarette from her as she returned it before laying her head back and letting the smoke drift from between her lips, caught by the draft at the open window and pulled outside.

"Reno," she said quietly, sitting back up, "I don't get involved with that sort of thing anymore. AVALANCHE, what we did was wrong. We killed people no different from us, no matter how Barret felt about it at the time. They had families, lives, dreams… Their only mistake was working for a company that was killing the planet. They didn't deserve to die for that." She turned and stared out the window.

Reno had never expected to hear any member of AVALANCHE admit to any wrongdoing or sense of guilt. As far as he could tell, they considered themselves the planet's saviors, and felt that all they had done was justified by the end result of their actions. The only one that might have been an exception was the dark-haired gunman, Vincent Valentine, and that was only because he seemed to thrive on the search for redemption. He would probably take on other people's guilt if he didn't have any of his own. Actually, from what Reno had heard of the man, that was just what he'd done.

But Si'ara was a different matter. She had always seemed sure of herself, confident in her friends and supportive of their actions. To see her hands clench in her lap, hear the catch in her voice, and realize that she'd been carrying a secret guilt since AVALANCHE had blown up the Sector 5 reactor so many years ago, surprised him. It struck a chord within him as well, and he found his anger fading as she became a person again, instead of a subject to be questioned for Shinra's purposes. But he still needed answers for Tseng. "So who are they, Si'ara?" he asked once more, this time without any venom.

"I don't know their names." She blinked away unwelcome memories and turned to look at him. "Reno, honestly, I'm not involved with them."

"But you know who and what they are?"

"Essentially, yes, in that I know who you're referring to. But I don't have any dealings with them beyond serving them drinks and kicking them out if they get too rowdy." She held his gaze steadily, and after a moment, he turned his attention back to the road.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about when we get to Midgar, then," he said, giving her a sidelong glance. As he'd expected, she just looked out the window-no sign of relief. She was hiding something. At the same time, he was sure that what she'd told him was true. He drove on in silence for another hour or so, then pulled over.

"We need to stop for a minute. You two, get out and stretch. Si'ara, I want you to stay in the buggy."

The guards got out immediately, glad of the chance to move around. Si'ara frowned slightly, but remained where she was and said nothing. Reno walked away from the buggy, and flipped open his PHS to call Tseng.

His superior picked up almost immediately. "What have you got, Reno?"

Right down to business. Reno followed his lead. "I don't think she's working with them. She knows who they are, but whatever they're up to, I don't think she knows about it."

"But?" Tseng never missed a thing, damn him.

"She does know something. Maybe they're connected to Barret or Cloud, and she knows that, but she's trying to keep out of it." He paused. "Tseng," he said softly, watching her staring out of the buggy window, "she's still beating herself up over AVALANCHE blowing up the reactor, yo. She doesn't want any part of this."

"Perhaps you and she should talk. Thanks for the information." Tseng hung up before Reno could respond.

Reno shook his head. Tseng. He'd been the first person Reno had seen after Reno had blown up the pillar supporting Sector 7, dropping the plate above on the slums, killing most of the people on the plate and beneath it. He'd watched the news in a hospital room with Reno as the reality of it had sunk in, the death toll mounting with each passing minute, images of devastation filling the screen, all blamed on the very people who had given their lives trying to prevent it. Neither of them had said anything, but yeah, Reno had his share of guilt to carry, and Tseng knew that it haunted him sometimes. He pushed these thoughts aside with a sigh and headed back to the car, turning off the ringer on his PHS on the way, protocol be damned. He'd had enough of being hung up on by Tseng.

The trip went peacefully enough for the next several hours. Si'ara was quiet at first, staring out the window, then started humming to herself. When she happened across a song Reno was familiar with, he sang the first few lines softly. She stopped humming, suddenly self-conscious, but when he paid no attention, she joined him, tentatively at first, then with more confidence. That passed another hour or so, neither of them really acknowledging the other, but each trying various songs until the other joined in. After they stopped for lunch, getting out to stretch and relieve themselves, Si'ara settled down to get some sleep, tired from her restless night. Reno left her alone, tired himself, but in a hurry to get to Fort Condor.

The afternoon sun was casting golden light across an increasingly hilly landscape by the time Si'ara sat up and looked around. "How far are we from Fort Condor?" she asked sleepily.

"Not far. Why? You in a hurry for some reason, babe?" Reno guessed they'd be there in time for dinner, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

"No, I just…"

She fell silent as Reno's PHS alerted him to a message. He frowned and flipped it open, his expression darkening swiftly as he read.

_Reno,_

_There has been an attack on the power plant in North Corel. The plant has been shut down at this point, and there have been several casualties, with far more injured. There is no doubt that several of the persons involved were those who have been seen at Si'ara's bar, however, none were apprehended. Please contact me as soon as you are able, in a place where I may speak to you freely._

Reno struggled to keep his temper in check, but was unable to stop himself from throwing Si'ara a look that promised swift and merciless retribution if she proved to be in any way responsible for any tragedy that might personally affect him. She recoiled, shocked, but he paid no attention, pulling over abruptly to the side of the road and shutting off the buggy's engine.

"Get out." He grabbed Si'ara's wrist as he addressed the guards, and pulled her across the seat toward his door.

"What the hell!" She resisted, then gave in as she realized that he would drag her out onto the ground if she didn't cooperate. "What's going on all of a sudden?"

Reno shot her another venomous look. "Seems your friends have been busy, babe. And just for the record, you're officially under arrest." He pulled her arms behind her back and snapped a pair of cuffs on her as she stood, looping them through the handle of the door. "You two!"

"Sir!" Both of the guards had their PHS's open, but flipped them closed and hurried around to his side of the buggy, saluting smartly.

"Stay here. If she tries to run, take her down. She's wanted in Midgar for questioning, so make sure she can still talk."

"Reno?" Si'ara's shocked and frightened gasp was enough to make the red-haired Turk pause briefly, but nothing more. He strode away from the buggy, climbing up the hill that bordered the road, waiting until he was out of sight and hearing range of either Si'ara or the guards before flipping open his PHS and dialing Tseng.

"I assume you received my message?"

"Yeah. An attack in North Corel." Tension made Reno's voice unusually tight, as he waited suspiciously to see just what his superior felt he needed this much privacy to discuss.

Tseng was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "It is not my habit to intrude on your personal life, Reno. But I wished to inform you that your personal concern in the city is safe. She was injured in the attack, but has been seen by Shinra medical staff, and was released to go home. It appears that her injuries were minor and she will recover completely."

Relief flooded through Reno, leaving him feeling shaky and drained. "How long have you known?" he asked quietly, wondering why he had ever thought he could do anything in his life without his superior's knowledge.

"Since you removed her from Junon. Bring Si'ara to Midgar. We can talk further then, if necessary."

Reno flipped the PHS closed and lit a cigarette as Tseng disconnected, staring out over the rolling countryside, memories flooding back in a rush.

"_The man continues to refuse to cooperate with Shinra. Your orders are to terminate the remainder of the family. Get this paper signed if you can. Otherwise, assets will revert to city possession, and will have to be appropriated through the proper-and time-consuming-legal channels." Tseng held out a folder containing any necessary details of the mission._

"_She's what-six, seven years old, maybe?" Reno stared at the folder, then reached out and accepted it. "Lost her mother years ago, now her brother and older sister in a couple month's time? And all because her father won't let go of a few blocks of land?"_

_Tseng shrugged. "A quick end, then, to what has become an increasingly hard life."_

"_Yeah." The red-head flipped slowly through the pages in the file, then tucked it under his arm. "I'll fly myself out."_

_His superior arched a brow. "Protocol would be either to have a pilot take you, or to take backup," he pointed out mildly. "I would think you could handle the job on your own."_

"_I can." There was a sharp tone to the Turk's voice. "I handled the other two well enough, didn't I?"_

"_You seem to have misgivings." There wasn't much that Tseng missed, damn him._

"_Not my job to have misgivings." Reno shrugged. "Shinra needs someone out of the way, it's my job to remove them. That's all."_

_Tseng regarded his second-in-command in silence for a moment, then nodded. "There's a helicopter available-you can leave this afternoon."_

_Fog lay in a heavy blanket over Junon, fleeing the twirling rotors of the Shinra helicopter in chaotic streams and whorls. Reno cut the engine and picked up the folder laying on the other seat, flipping it open to a picture of a young girl, her blue eyes sparkling and untroubled, black curls shining in the afternoon sun. He could easily imagine what she might look like ten years from now, vivacious and energetic, far too trusting and naïve. Easy prey for the first cold-blooded predator to cross her path-he pictured her blood staining the ground, the evening shadows lengthening as in the distance someone called her name-_

_With an angry motion, he flipped the folder into the back of the helicopter and climbed out. There was no need for subtlety-he opened the back door and climbed in, then rolled out on the latest piece of Shinra technology. The sleek and sophisticated Shinra Mark IV was the final word in speed and style, and for most of the planet's population, would be available sometime early next year. Reno revved the engine with a grin, enjoying the feel of the power rumbling beneath him, and tore off into the night._

_He stopped some distance from the house he was looking for, sat on the bike and stared for a moment at the park that comprised the few blocks of land over which Shinra was having a man and his family killed. A man and his daughter, now-Reno had started this task earlier in the year, and if the idiot loved his family as much as he did this tract of trees and flowers Reno's job would have been much quicker. Instead…_

_He swung his leg over the bike and set off toward the house, a cozy-looking cottage with a yard that bordered the park. The doors were locked, but that proved no barrier to the Turk, who slipped into the building quietly, mag-rod in hand._

_A startled barking erupted to his left, and he cursed, pulling his gun and pressing himself against the wall, looking for the wretched animal. A muffled voice reached his ears, followed by the sound of claws scrabbling on wood. He sighted on the noise, then went still, glad of the darkness that enshrouded him, as a soft light came on, illuminating a hallway and its occupants-a floppy brown dog not much more than a puppy, its collar gripped firmly in a child's hand._

"_Silly boy." The girl yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her free hand. "See? There's nothing there." She walked into the room where Reno stood motionless and climbed onto a chair, pulling the protesting creature onto her lap and hushing him gently. "Were you just afraid of the dark?" She patted the animal's head to comfort it. "I get afraid of the dark sometimes, too. We can sit here 'til you're done being scared."_

_Reno considered his options. There was no sound from the rest of the house, and from the girl's reaction, he assumed that the dog was prone to bark at nothing. The father's room was two doors past where the girl sat-the closest room was a bathroom, then her room, and a kitchen opposite. Two shots would take care of her and the dog, but he needed to be sure that the father was here, and wasn't alerted in time to flee. If it wasn't for the damned dog, that wouldn't be a problem._

_The animal, however, continued to growl in what it apparently felt was a menacing manner, and he knew that the child's eyes would adjust to the light soon. With a silent curse, he sighted carefully and pulled the trigger, two sharp cracks shattering the stillness of the night._

_He was in motion before the first shot echoed through the room. Electricity filled the room with a flickering light, and the girl fell in a limp heap, then he was down the now-dark hallway and through the door into the older man's room. Startled into wakefulness by the gunshots, the child's father was struggling to pull on a robe even as he staggered toward his bedroom window._

_Reno dropped him with a third and fourth shot, taking out both knees. He ignored the frightened cries for help, the pleas for mercy, and the terrified assurance that the man would do as Shinra asked after all. It had taken the death of all three of his children, and the certain knowledge of his own, for him to reach this point. Reno's plans didn't include mercy of any kind._

_He dragged the man through the house to the kitchen and turned on the gas, dropping his hapless victim in the middle of the room._

"_Shinra thanks you for your cooperation, yo," he drawled, settling into an easy crouch in front of the man, who was trying unsuccessfully to squirm away across the floor. "Sign here, and we can get this over with." He pushed a pen into the man's trembling hands and lay a paper on the floor in front of him. As the man stammered out grateful noises, clearly assuming that his cooperation would buy him his life, Reno checked the signature, then pocketed both paper and pen before starting a search of the kitchen. Rummaging through a couple drawers turned up the tools he was looking for. Selecting a handful of long nails and a hammer, he walked over and dropped into a crouch in front of the man. "Now, let's make sure you stay put…"_

_A few minutes later, he walked out of the kitchen, wiping blood off of his hands on a chocobo-patterned towel and tossing it over his shoulder. He nudged the body of the floppy dog out of his way with one foot, and stopped to look down at the still form beside it, black curls in disarray, fluffy pink slippers stained with blood. Walking away, he found a candle and lit it before returning to lift the girl into his arms, pulling off the slippers and tossing them down the hall. He took a moment to make sure all the windows were closed, then slipped out the front door, sealing it tightly behind him._

_An explosion rocked the night as he turned the motorcycle back towards the helicopter, a warm body nestled against him, oblivious to the fact that he had just ended her life. Now the harder task lay before him-trying to make her a new one, safe from Shinra and the murderers in its employ. Safe, to put it simply, from people like him._

A scream from the direction of the buggy interrupted Reno's thoughts, jerking him sharply back to the present. He reached the top of the hill in three long strides and saw the two guards struggling with Si'ara, who was on the ground, no longer handcuffed to the buggy door. Incensed, he let out a string of expletives as he started toward them. Why couldn't she just behave for two minutes?


	20. Bullets, Broken Buggy, and Makebelieve

This one is rated M, I suppose, for considered rape and use of the f-word. Also includes the endearment "sugar-pie," but nothing more cloying or cheesy.

* * *

Once Reno walked away, the guards had begun talking between themselves, apparently paying no attention to Si'ara. She had taken advantage of their inattention to determine that although she couldn't get her hands out of the cuffs, she could at least work the handcuffs free from the buggy door, and had set about doing so immediately.

As she had finally accomplished her goal, the guards had turned toward, her, a gleam in their eyes that set off every alarm her combat-trained senses had. She backed away, and they rushed her, the closest one, Parker, grabbing her by one arm and slamming her against the buggy, then shoving her to the ground. The other one, Leon, drew his gun and held it on her while Parker straddled her, pinning her down, and slapped her across the face, hard.

"You're the reason Jasper is dead, bitch," Parker hissed, and he slapped her again, a bitter sneer curling his lip. "Betcha didn't even know his name, did you?"

"I didn't kill him." Si'ara guessed that he was referring to the guard on the beach in Junon. She understood his anger, but she wasn't going to take the blame for something Reno had done.

"Your fault." He snarled as she thrashed beneath him, twisting her body to try to throw him off. "Leon here'll shoot you in the leg if you try that again. Didn'cha hear? All we need to do is make sure you can still talk."

Si'ara realized with dismay that the two guards had decided that Reno's angry command to take her down if she tried to run meant that they could now punish her as they saw fit for the crime they felt she'd committed. She tried desperately to free herself from the handcuffs, pulling her legs up against Parker's back in the hopes that making it harder for Leon to shoot her without harming his fellow guard would keep him from firing.

"Clever." Parker freed his nightstick from the clasp at his side, and shifted position, stretching out to pin her body to the ground. His expression changed slightly, and he rocked his hips against her. "Ya know what? This gives me a better idea." He pushed her legs apart with his own, the anger in his eyes undiminished, clearly believing that his actions were justified by the part she'd played in the death of his friend.

Si'ara realized that the only ally she had now, if he was willing to take that role, was Reno. She screamed his name, and renewed her efforts at dislodging Parker, trying to head-butt him, bite him, kick him, anything. He dug his knee into the inside of her thigh, and she screamed again, this time in pain. With a growl, he shoved the nightstick against her throat, then Leon hissed that Reno was heading their way.

"What's he going to do?" Parker asked, still focused on Si'ara. "She's the prisoner, here, not us. And I'm not doing anything that'll stop her from talking when they want her to." Leon started to answer, then two shots rang out, and Parker slumped to the side.

Reno realized as he started down the hill that whatever had started this fight, it had gotten out of hand quickly. The guard pinning Si'ara down wasn't simply trying to restrain her—he was forcing himself on her. The other man was watching them, gun in hand. Reno wasn't immediately sure whose side he was on, so he took out the primary threat first. At that point, Leon turned the gun on the red-haired Turk and pulled the trigger.

Si'ara had been in many fights before, and death was nothing new. Seeing it up-close like this, however, was always fodder for her nightmares. Parker's blood was a spreading warmth at her side, and she was pretty sure that the image of what was left of his face just before he'd fallen would haunt her dreams for many nights to come.

She tried to move out from under him, then grabbed at Leon's leg when she realized that he was shooting at the approaching Turk—a mistake few people made more than once. Reno responded in kind, with an accuracy that Leon seemed to lack. Apparently, simply taking him down wasn't enough, however, as Reno continued firing until the man's body hit the ground. Si'ara shuddered, then lay still, frightened of Reno for the first time as she saw the ice-cold rage in his eyes.

Reno jerked the first guard's body off of Si'ara, then dropped to one knee beside her, checking her throat to make sure that she was still able to breath and speak. He saw the fear in her eyes, and although he supposed it should have pleased him, it didn't. He wanted to know if she was okay, to comfort her and assure her that she was safe now, but instead found himself asking her angrily what had happened.

Si'ara tried to sit up, and Reno pulled her to her feet roughly. She looked away, wishing she had a better answer, but certain that lying to him now would be a bad idea. "The guards weren't paying much attention—they were messing around with their phones," she said softly. "I tried to get the handcuffs loose, but all I could do was get them free from the door." She stared at the ground. "They saw that I was loose and came over, then accused me of getting the guard killed back in Junon…" She trailed off.

Reno clenched and unclenched his hands, shoved the gun into its holster, and asked her in a dangerously calm voice, "So, Si'ara, were you admiring the scenery, or looking for a way to escape?"

"I was looking around. Yeah, I wanted to see if I could get away. What do you expect?" She glared at him, but the anger drained from her expression as she met his gaze, replaced by wariness and uncertainty.

"Get in the buggy, Si'ara." He said it in the same quiet voice, as though her answer had been an irrelevant interlude, and she moved toward the vehicle, pausing when she realized she had no hope of opening the door with her hands still fastened behind her back.

Reno had apparently come to the same conclusion, as he stepped past her, stopping suddenly and closing his eyes, then kicking the door hard enough to bend it inward. Si'ara looked from him to the buggy, then realized what had upset him so much. At least one of the bullets he'd fired had struck the vehicle, leaving it with a flat tire and a growing pool of liquid beneath it.

"Fuck." Reno glared at the dent and considered kicking it again. "Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" He pulled the gun back out and pointed it at Si'ara's forehead. "Sit. Down."

Si'ara considered bolting, but Reno's actions and words so far had made it clear that he was supposed to get her to Midgar alive. She didn't think that he would lose his temper and shoot her if she cooperated, so she sank to the ground slowly, watching Reno as he lowered the gun to follow her. With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his PHS, flipping it open without taking his eyes off of her. He hit a button and raised it to his ear.

"It's Reno," he said sharply. "There's been a bit of a snag. I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere with no transportation." He clenched his jaw and said through gritted teeth, "Just put Tseng on the line."

A moment later, his superior's voice asked with his usual calm, "So, Reno, what can I do for you?"

"The buggy isn't working out. I need something else."

"And how is it not working out?" There was a trace of genuine curiosity in Tseng's voice-he knew Reno wouldn't call him back just because he didn't like having to take the buggy.

"It got shot." He frowned as Si'ara started to giggle.

"What happened?" The curiosity turned to professional concern.

"There was a problem with the guards I had with us. They're dead, the buggy's shot, and it's starting to rain. Can we skip the details?"

The line was silent for a moment. "Okay. We can't get anyone out to you immediately, but there's a farm about five miles northeast of your location. I'm sorry, Reno, but that's the best I can offer right now. I'm sending the coordinates."

Reno nodded. "Thanks. I'll get back to you." He flipped the phone shut and stared down at Si'ara, who was bent over, still giggling like mad. "Si'ara?"

"It got shot." She shook her head, shaking with laughter.

"Well, it—" Watching her, Reno found himself grinning as well. He knew hysterical laughter when he saw it, but he had to admit, it was good to see her laughing. In a flash, seeing Parker pinning her down and threatening her, he'd realized how much she meant to him, whether they were on the same side or not. He was sure she would cooperate once she understood what was going on, and then maybe they'd have a chance to work something out. In the meantime, they needed to get moving. "Si'ara, we have to get going. There's a storm blowing in, and it's a long way to any kind of shelter."

She looked up at him, and he could see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"C'mon." He took hold of her arm and pulled her to her feet, then led her to the back of the buggy and opened it. "We can't take the luggage, but you should at least change your shirt." She looked down at it as if only now seeing the blood sticking it to her side. "I'm going to go take care of the guards. I'll take off the cuffs so you can change, but sweetness, if you try to run, I swear I'll shoot you in the leg."

Si'ara sobered and nodded, turning her head to rub her cheek on her shoulder. He unlocked the cuffs and looked up at the sky, glad that the brief rain they had driven through earlier had not been the beginning of the storm clearly headed their way. With any luck, they could make it halfway to the farm before that hit. Leaving Si'ara to change, he went to remove identification and weapons from the guards' bodies.

Si'ara pulled off her shirt, and used it to wipe as much blood off of herself as she could. Digging through the bag Cissnei had given her, she selected a black sleeveless shirt and a grey sweater, putting the first on and tying the second around her waist for now. Reno came around the back of the buggy as she was finishing, and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He closed the back of the buggy and locked it up, then took out a cigarette and lit it before gesturing for Si'ara to follow him as he started down the road. "C'mon, babe. Tseng says there's a farmhouse about five miles this way." He grinned as she cringed reflexively at the endearment. "We should be able to make it before nightfall."

She sighed and joined him. "On the road?"

"Nope. We'll follow it as long as we can, though." A new concern presented itself as he saw how she favored her right leg. "You gonna make it?"

"Yeah." She raised her chin defiantly, and he suspected that she'd walk to Midgar and back before she'd admit to him that she was in pain.

"Stay close." He took a long drag from the cigarette, and lay his head back to exhale slowly. "I wouldn't want'cha to wander off and get lost."

She didn't miss the warning tone in his voice, but chose to ignore it. "Not likely. That tangle of red hair is probably visible for miles."

"Tangle?" He slanted a glance her way. "Seemed easy enough for you to slide your fingers through it the other night."

"We all make mistakes."

After that, they traveled in silence, each lost in their own unhappy thoughts. Si'ara, remembering the bodies of the fallen guards and the look in Reno's eyes, wondered how she could have responded so eagerly to the caresses of a cold-hearted killer like the Turk, and Reno seethed at being referred to as a mistake just when he was starting to think they might have a chance at … something, and wondered just how much she really knew about the terrorists' activities.

An hour or so had passed when a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder heralded the onset of the storm, and they both turned to see the rain coming down in sheets a few miles behind them. Reno pulled out the PHS and flipped it open, then shoved it back in his pocket.

"We're more than halfway. Seriously, babe, are you gonna be okay?" He had thought his way around in circles for the last hour or so, and had come to the conclusion that his best option was to forget the last few days and go back to treating her the way he'd started. Casually antagonistic. She might not have liked it, but at least it hadn't seemed to hurt her—she'd risen willingly to the bait he'd thrown out and had occasionally seemed to be enjoying the verbal sparring.

Si'ara had been thinking as well, and had come to a similar conclusion. Not that she should change the way she was behaving, but that she'd hated him less when he was treating the whole thing like a game. "Yeah, Reno. I suspect I have a little more stamina than your usual choice of women. I can walk a few miles without having to find a bar or someone's bed to flop down in."

Reno grinned, and pulled out another cigarette. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe they aren't big on walking, but if we're talking stamina, yo…" He dodged to the side as she took a half-hearted swing at him. "Well, you were the one who brought it up, darling."

"I'm not your darling." She watched him grin as he lit the cigarette.

"Actually, I've been thinking, and I decided that would be the best thing for you to be for now." He tucked the lighter back into his pocket and offered her the cigarette.

"What?" Her puzzled outrage only added to his amusement, and she knew it.

"Well, we're gonna be showing up at this farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, alone, with no vehicle and no luggage, looking for a place to stay for the night. I'm not letting you out of my sight, which means that wherever we sleep, it'll be together." She hadn't reached for the cigarette, so he took a drag, then watched as the rising winds whipped away the smoke as it passed his lips. "So, we should probably go ahead and act like a lost but loving couple." He snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eye and added sweetly, "sugar-pie."

"Sugar-pie? Huh-uh." Si'ara shook her head. "Why not just be a Turk and his prisoner? Saves me from having to put up with any more of your stock of cheesy endearments." She quickened her pace to keep up with him as he tried to keep them ahead of the storm.

"If that's how you want it," he said flatly.

Si'ara sighed and rolled her eyes. "Alright, we can play make-believe," she conceded. "But don't get too carried away."

Having gotten exactly what he wanted, Reno just smirked.

By the time the storm hit, Reno figured they should be less than a mile from the farm. He helped Si'ara into her sweater, concerned by the fact that she let him do it. It told him better than any words could have just how much pain she was in.

"We're almost there," he assured her, as the skies opened above them. "And hey, we get a shower before bed, yo."

"Reno," she asked, yelling to be heard above the storm, "how do you know I won't just tell the farmers that you're holding me prisoner and hope that they're willing to help me?"

He shook his head. "You're not that heartless, babe." She frowned in confusion, and he explained easily, "if you tell them that, and talk them into helping you get away from me, we won't be leaving anyone alive behind us. Not this time," he added, remembering the girl from the beach in Junon.

She shot him a shocked look. "Reno, that's—"

"The way things work." He interrupted her, but without any malice. "Get used to it."

"Anyone?" She had an uncertain look in her eyes, and he knew what she was thinking.

"That a road you wanna go down right now?" His tone clearly said that it wasn't, and for once, she took the hint.

A few minutes later, the farm came into view, the sight giving them both a burst of renewed energy. They hurried towards it, but Si'ara was having trouble walking, let alone running. After she stumbled for the second time, she let Reno slip an arm around her for support, and he half-carried her to the first building they reached, which was a barn. The door was open, and he went straight inside, calling out a questioning "Hello?" as he did.

"Yeah? Hello?" A young man came out of a stall halfway down the barn, then shut it quickly and hurried toward them. "You folks alright?"

"We got caught in the storm. We need a place to stay." In any city, Reno could count on his obvious status as a Turk to get shelter, supplies, pretty much anything he wanted. Farms could be a different matter—on some of them, the residents had never seen a town and had no idea who the Turks were. Hell, on some of the more isolated farms, they only had a hazy idea what Shin-Ra was.

"Yeah, sure. We got a room you can use—it's not the greatest place, but it's got beds. She gonna be okay?"

"She's hurt. You got anything for a broken leg, yo?" He didn't think it was really broken, but he wanted to do something about it, and he knew her back was hurting again, after the way he'd dragged her around, then her treatment at Parker and Leon's hands.

"Uh… Got some kinda potion somewhere, I think. I'll go ask the wife." He waved for them to follow him. "Some blond guy gave it to us in exchange for staying here one night a while back. Those things don't go bad, do they?"

"Don't think so." Reno looked down at Si'ara, and she smiled wanly at him.

"M'okay," she murmured. "Just need to lay down…"

"Just a little further. Maybe too much for you, though." He gave her a doubtful look. "You seem pretty weak right now, yo."

Sure enough, she pulled away from him slightly, relying on her own pride and stubbornness for support, and followed him as he trailed the farmer into the nearby house.

"Hey, Mirana," the farmer called as he pushed open the door. A red-haired woman came hurrying in from another room, balancing a baby on one hip, with a toddler clinging to her skirt. "Where'd ya put that potion that guy gave us? This lady's hurt pretty bad."

Mirana set the baby down quickly, admonishing the toddler to keep an eye on him for just a second. She went over to a cupboard and rummaged through it, quickly coming up with a small bluish vial. "Here you go. He said it has some kind of curative power, but we've never done anything with it." She held it out to Si'ara, but Reno took it from her, looking it over curiously. "You two aren't heading back out into this, are you?"

"Nah." Her husband shook his head and answered for them. "I thought we'd put them in the back room. It's still got them beds in it from when Roxie and her kids were here, right?"

"I'll take care of it." Mirana swept the baby back up off the floor and went back the way she'd come.

"This looks fine," Reno said quietly to Si'ara. "It's not labeled or anything. You want me to try it first?"

"Yeah." Si'ara leaned against a table wearily. "If it's anything bad, I'm not sure I could take it right now."

Reno nodded and pulled the stopper out of the bottle then took a tiny sip. It didn't have a dramatic effect, but it certainly didn't seem to be doing any harm. "Seems fine, babe. Here." He handed it to her and watched her drink it. "Any better?"

"Mmm. Hurts less," she offered. "Yeah, it seems to be helping."

Mirana came back and led them to a room, obviously in general disuse, but with clean linens on both beds. She apologized for the mess, and told them she'd have dinner ready in a bit, if they wanted any. Reno stepped out of the room with her, leaving Si'ara alone.

Soaked to the bone and getting colder by the minute, Si'ara peeled off her wet clothes and pulled a blanket off one of the beds, wrapping herself in it. It didn't seem to help. When Reno came back, he found her shivering, teeth chattering as she tried to pull the blanket off the other bed as well.

He looked at her for a second, then picked her up, blanket and all, and laid her on the blanket-less bed. He pulled back the covers on the other bed and transferred her, peeling off his own wet clothes before laying down beside her, still bundled in her makeshift cocoon. "Shh," he whispered as she tried to twist around to see what he was doing. "I'm not gonna molest you, sweetness. Just relax."

Si'ara wanted to protest, but she could already feel the heat from his body warming hers through the blanket she was wrapped in. She shifted onto her side, pressing her back against him, and felt him roll over and fit his body to hers, holding the blanket between them. Exhausted from the events of the day and finally starting to feel warm and healthy again, she drifted into a restful sleep. Reno, tired and almost scarily content with her in his arms, did the same.


	21. A Chopper, Understanding, Midgar at last

Yup, two chapters. I'm on a roll.

If you have any time after reading this, let me know what you think. Characters in character, or at least consistent in the way they behave? Story fairly smooth-no major "wait, where the heck did that come from?" moments? Writers live for reviews. Or maybe it's just me...

* * *

Reno awoke to find Si'ara still snuggled down in his arms, asleep. He disentangled himself from her, drawn by the scent of food and slightly bothered by the fact that someone had been able to bring it into the room without waking him up. He shrugged it off—he'd been exhausted, and had slept better than anytime in his recent memory—and dressed.

There were two plates of cold food on the other bed. Some kind of roast meat, potatoes, bread, butter, and beer. He sat and ate, watching Si'ara sleep. She'd rolled over into the spot he'd vacated, but showed no signs of waking up.

What would he do if she'd known of the attack? He didn't want to hurt her—he'd done enough of that already. But if she had information that could have prevented this tragedy… He was relieved that the girl he had hidden there was alive, but it was just good luck. He'd arranged for her to get a job at the new plant when it had opened, confident that working for Shinra was safe now, not the hazard it had been years before. Other than that, he'd done what he could to make North Corel in general a safe and prosperous place. That had fit in with Shin-Ra's plans, so it hadn't been too difficult. Nothing like this attack should have happened.

At that point in his rather circular line of thinking, he realized that his PHS was flashing its "Message Waiting" sign. He flipped it open with a sense of resignation.

_Reno. A chopper will arrive mid-morning to transport you and Si'ara to Midgar. Give the guard flying it the location of the buggy-he will see to its disposal. Bring Si'ara directly to Shin-Ra headquarters._

That didn't sound good. He sighed, and set down the plate, then went over to wake Si'ara up so she could eat.

Si'ara glanced at Reno when she heard the sound of the approaching chopper. He moved closer to her, seeing the panic flash in her eyes as she realized that this was her last chance to run.

"They're nice people, Si'ara," he said softly. "Don't do it."

She stared at him, stunned. "You're kidding, right?" She glanced behind them at the farmhouse, where Mirana was hanging clothes on the line while the baby rolled around on a blanket and the toddler chased birds and butterflies. "Reno, tell me you're kidding."

He looked away, watching the chopper's approach, then turned back to her, eyes cold and professional. "Babe," he said softly, "I don't bluff. Ever. I have to get you to Midgar, and if that's what it takes to get the job done, that's what I'll do. Don't test me."

"Have you…?" She trailed off, then wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "Have you done that before?"

"You were there when I dropped the Sector 7 plate, doll. You know I have."

"That's not what I meant. That was … that's different."

He looked away with an angry scowl. "Yeah. I've killed men, women, and kids, right up close and personal. Puppies, too, if you're curious. That what you wanted to hear, yo?" He bit the words off angrily, wishing she hadn't made him say them.

"Oh, Reno." She whispered the words, and to his shock, reached out and touched him, not quite a hug, but she lay her hand on his back and stepped closer, pressed her cheek briefly against his shoulder.

He stared down at her, caught off guard by her response, but the chopper was landing now in the field, and they couldn't just stand here like this. He didn't want to upset her by pulling away, or make her think he was upset by her actions, so he brushed his lips across her forehead and squeezed her arm gently. "C'mon, sweetness, that's our ride," he murmured. Why was she so completely unpredictable? Yeah, in many ways all women were, but half the time she did exactly the opposite of what he expected, and it threw him off balance, something he wasn't used to.

Si'ara followed Reno to the chopper, thinking back to Cissnei's words—her implication that Reno didn't like doing the things that he did. He was so laid back about it, so quick to joke or toss out a witty quip, that she'd never realized there was any more to him than the Shin-Ra lackey she'd thought him to be. But she understood what the former Turk had meant now. His feelings might not stop Reno from doing his job, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the pain he caused. For reasons she didn't want to dwell on at the moment, the realization pleased her.

Reno opened the door to hand Si'ara up into the helicopter, and she allowed him to do so without any fuss. However, as he was about to let go, to step away and close the door, her hand gripped his suddenly. "Reno?" She had to yell to be heard over the sound of the slowing rotors. "Tell me you won't leave me." Her hand trembled slightly, and he knew that she was genuinely afraid of what might await her in Midgar.

"Babe, you know I—" Yeah, she did. She knew he'd have to leave her if they told him to. So, she wasn't asking for a promise, she was asking for… What? Not a lie, exactly, just something to get her through until the truth became an undeniable reality. He tossed her a crooked grin as an old memory stirred. "You know I gotcher back, yo." He squeezed her hand, then pulled away and closed the door.

They spent the trip back to Midgar watching the scenery below. Si'ara watched Reno fly with practiced ease, noting how relaxed and at home he seemed in the pilot's seat. He hadn't given her a headset, so she wasn't able to talk to him, but he pointed at sights of interest on occasion—a flock of chocobos racing across a plain, fog filling a small valley in the mountains they'd flown over, a field of blue flowers that seemed to stretch for miles.

All too soon, however, Midgar loomed before them. Si'ara tried to tell herself that everything would be okay, but she knew for certain now that it would not. She had told Reno the truth, but only part of it. She didn't know much about the terrorists coming and going at her bar, but she knew who did. Her assistant, Kyli, had invited them there, met with them, provided them with shelter and supplies. Si'ara had warned her against such actions, but Kyli's family had been killed years ago in Corel by Shin-Ra's attack, and she hated them with a passion. She'd asked Si'ara what right Si'ara had to tell her not to associate with them, when Si'ara had once made the same sort of decision herself.

So, Si'ara had introduced her to Barret, hoping that he could talk some sense into her. She'd thought that he'd overcome his hatred of Shin-Ra, as she had. But she'd been wrong. He'd talked to Kyli, and had asked Si'ara to keep her safe, but he hadn't talked her out of her associations, in fact, she was pretty sure he'd introduced her to a few like-minded people that he hung out with. But Barret was her friend, and she felt like Kyli was her responsibility, and she wasn't about to betray them to a company she knew would kill them without hesitation.

Reno contacted Shin-Ra headquarters as he approached Midgar. He refused to speak to anyone but Tseng, and in Midgar, Reno generally got what Reno wanted.

"Yes?" Tseng's voice indicated a combination of irritation, impatience and amusement. Mostly impatience, though, so Reno didn't waste any time with pleasantries.

"We'll be touching down in less than two minutes. I don't want any guards, in fact, I don't really want to see anyone there when I land."

"You have a reason for this, I assume?"

"Yeah." What was it? Oh, right. He didn't want to upset Si'ara. How could he phrase that so that Tseng would go along with it? "Uh, I don't want to upset Si'ara, yo. She's been through a lot." Bahamut's balls! He'd meant to come up with something clever that Tseng couldn't argue with…

"Understood. Bring her directly to my office." And once again, Tseng cut off the transmission before Reno could respond.

"I _hate_ when he does that!" Reno shook his head, then realized that his scowl would probably worry Si'ara, so he tossed her an encouraging grin. Tseng had agreed to his request pretty easily, so maybe things would go better than he'd expected.

Si'ara wasn't fooled by Reno's quick grin, but she pretended to be. There was no point in starting a fight with him now—he was the closest thing she had to an ally here. When he landed the helicopter, she looked around for any sign of the guards she'd expected to be waiting, but the landing pad was empty. Reno cut off the engines, climbed out and walked around to open her door.

Si'ara looked down at him for a minute as he offered her his hand. He waited patiently while she scanned the area for any options she might have, then helped her down when she finally put her hand in his. "It's almost over, babe," he said as he shut the door behind her. "Just tell them what they want to know, and I can get you home in time for supper."

"Sure." She didn't smile, just pulled her hand back, then let him lead her to a door and through it. "Where is everyone?"

"I'm taking you to Tseng's office. Elena and Rude are still out keeping busy, as far as I know. And I told Tseng to keep anyone else out of our way. I don't know where Rufus is." That was something he hadn't considered. For the last couple days, Tseng had stayed between them and Rufus. But Rufus was unlikely to stay in the background now.

Si'ara felt trapped, knew that she _was_ trapped. Whatever chance she'd had to avoid coming to Midgar, she'd missed it completely. She probably couldn't fight her way out of Shin-Ra headquarters alone, and as far as she knew, no-one was going to help her. The situation wasn't to her liking.

Tseng rose as they entered his office, inclining his head politely and indicating that Reno should close the door. "Miss Ravenscar."

"Tseng." His tone had been polite, hers was entirely without emotion. "I would like to know just why you've abducted me in this manner." She looked around his office, a spacious room with no ornamentation, just a large desk and a glass wall looking out over Midgar, sheer curtains covering it in layers.

"We have some questions to ask of you. Answer them, and you will be free to go."

"You didn't seem to be in a question-asking mood the last time I saw you." Now there was a trace of anger in her voice. "More like a shooting-people-in-the-head mood." She looked away in disgust and walked over to the window to see if he would stop her.

"I was not aware of the questions to be asked at that time. I was simply told that your presence was required in Midgar. And here you are." He walked out from behind the desk, moving to a spot near her, gazing out the window as she was doing, but making no threatening gestures.

"I like to think that I have a right not to answer questions if I choose not to. That doesn't seem likely here." She flexed her hands and cracked her neck, working out the kinks from sitting in the helicopter for so long, in case she needed to move suddenly. "You could have just called, you know."

"The questions we have require answers." Tseng noted the way Reno moved close enough to defend Si'ara if necessary. Not, judging from his pose, to subdue her, but to defend her. Interesting.

Si'ara shrugged. "You're wasting time. I want to go home, so ask me your damned questions."

"I know that you are familiar with the men who have been frequenting your bar. I know that you are aware of their nature." Tseng turned his head slightly to look at her. "Are you aware that they attacked the power plant in North Corel yesterday, killing seven people and injuring dozens more?"

"I'd gotten the impression they'd done something along those lines. It has nothing to do with me." She didn't look at him, but continued to stare out the window.

"Will you give us their names? Any information you have on them?"

"No." She turned her head away from him, then abruptly turned to meet his gaze. "I don't have any information on them."

Tseng nodded. "So I see." There was no trace of deceit in her eyes. "But such lack of information cannot be anything but intentional."

She looked away immediately.

"Babe, just tell him what he wants to know, yo. These guys are bad news. You can't like what they're doing, can you?" Reno took a step towards her, and she glanced over her shoulder at him, clearly unhappy.

"Reno, no. It's— I don't approve of what they're doing. But I can't tell you anything I don't know." She turned back to the window, clenching her hands at her side.

Tseng shot Reno a warning glance, and the other Turk stopped where he was. "Miss Ravenscar," Tseng said softly, "are these men associated with Barret Wallace or Cloud Strife?"

Si'ara shook her head. "I haven't talked to or seen Cloud in ages. I don't know or care where he is or what he's doing."

"And Wallace?"

She scowled. "Tseng, if you want to know what Barret's doing, why don't you go abduct him?" She rounded on him suddenly, and Reno stepped toward them, this time facing her, a warning in his gaze.

Tseng noted both Reno's response and her reaction to it, as she flinched and glared at both of them. "Is it because I'm just a woman, old and out of shape? An easy target for your little gang of thugs? I'd love to prove you wrong, but hell, I can't, can I?" Bitterness dripped from her words, and Tseng knew from Reno's expression that she was throwing words he'd spoken back at him.

"If we knew where Barret was, we would have taken him as easily as we took you." At Tseng's subtle gesture, Reno stepped aside. "We do not have time for verbal sparring, regrettably. Will you tell us what we want to know?"

Si'ara looked out the window for a long minute, then shook her head. "You're not people I can trust with that information. Unless you can tell me that no harm of any kind would come to my friends?" She shot Tseng a sidelong glance, and he could see that she knew the answer was no.

"Very well. I'm sure you understand that I have no choice but to obtain this information, regardless of your state of cooperation."

She moved back a little bit, giving herself room to maneuver. "I'm sure you think you can," she agreed, flipping her hair back over her shoulder and watching both of them warily.

Tseng moved to the desk and tapped a button. Half a dozen Shin-Ra guards entered the room from three different locations. "I am quite certain of it," he said calmly. "Reno, if you would escort Miss Ravenscar this way?" He exited through yet another door.

Si'ara looked at Reno and knew that he would do as Tseng had asked, either alone or with the aid of the guards. She knew also that it was tearing him up inside, having to treat her this way. She wasn't sure why she hadn't been able to see it before, but now that she could, she felt had no choice but to let him take her arm and guide her through the door and down a winding corridor. After all, she was the one who'd made the choices that ultimately put her in this position, not Reno. She couldn't justify making him suffer for them.

After the second turn, she stopped, shaking her head when he dropped the EMR into his hand. Without speaking, she slid her arms around him and lay her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat and surrounding herself with his presence. He tensed, then stroked her hair carefully with his right hand before pulling her close with a sigh.

She pulled away far too soon, knowing that Tseng was unlikely to wait for long. Neither of them spoke, and after a few more turns, they came to a door with Tseng waiting outside.

"Tseng, I can do this, yo." Reno's hand was white around the EMR, and his jaw was clenched. "Just tell me what you need to know."

"That won't be necessary." Tseng unlocked the door.

"Tseng, you know I can." Reno scowled. "What's the problem here?" Anger radiated off of him in waves. "I've never failed before, have I?"

Tseng looked at Si'ara, not Reno. She met his gaze this time, and he could see the raw pain in her eyes. This was certainly an interesting twist. "Reno, you will report to Rufus Shinra's office and tell him you have delivered Miss Ravenscar to me." He turned his gaze on Reno now, and his expression, serene as it was, left no room for argument. "If Rufus has no further need for you, read the report on North Corel."

Si'ara couldn't look at Reno. She knew what he would do, no matter how he felt about it. Yeah, maybe the two of them could take Tseng if it came down to it. But Reno was a Turk, which meant that wouldn't happen. And frankly, she'd think a lot less of Reno if he would turn on his boss, even for her. So she stared at the wall behind Tseng instead, and wished she'd gone anywhere but home the night she'd started her vacation.


End file.
